The Truth of It
by Jensen Jones
Summary: Angel & Spike visit Buffy and the Scoobies for the weekend. When Spike is put on the spot to answer a question in a game of 'truth or dare' his answer surprises everyone, the first of many secrets revealed over the weekend. Spike-centric. All in keeping with Buffy and Angel TV shows canon.
1. Truth or Dare

The Truth of It

Dawn, Xander, Willow and Buffy were celebrating Dawn's college semester results by having a movie and games night at home. When Angel and Spike also turned up, Dawn had persuaded them to stay, excited to have them all together in the one place for once. Now the six of them all sat around the living room, eating snacks, talking and laughing with a movie of Dawn's choice playing, in the background. A game of truth or dare had somehow started.

"Truth," Angel decided. "Just don't ask anything too morbid. You'll regret it."

"Oooh, you shouldn't have said that," Xander pointed out from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, reaching for another handful of crisps. "Now it's gonna be morbid."

"Only fair to warn you," Angel shrugged.

It was Dawn, sitting on the floor with Xander who spoke. "If you lost your soul right now, who would be the first person in this room you'd kill?"

The room fell silent. Everyone looked at Angel, sitting silently in the corner. For a moment they all thought he would back out, but he finally spoke. "That's a real tough one," he said in a quiet ominous tone. "I mean, guys, come on, you know I'd kill you all. I'd save Buffy for last, of course. But, who'd be first?" He looked around the room at each one of them, sending little shivers up their spines. "Right now? I'm gonna go with… Willow."

Willow scoffed. "I'd like to see you try, Mister!"

"Well, I'd give it a good shot," Angel shrugged.

"How about you, Spike?" Xander asked. They all turned to Spike who was sitting on the couch talking to Buffy.

He looked up. "What about me?"

"Who would you kill? In this room? If you lost your soul? Right now?" Xander repeated the question.

" _What?_ " Spike's voice rose. "That was Angel's question!"

"And now it's yours," Xander insisted.

"That's not fair," Spike glanced from side to side feeling trapped. "You didn't ask truth or dare."

"Truth or dare?" Xander asked.

"Dare," Spike glared.

"Dare you to answer the question," Xander retorted.

"Xander everyone knows that's against the rules," Willow pointed out.

"Don't matter," Spike got to his feet, crumpling the empty beer can tightly in his hand and chucking it to the floor. "I'm not playing."

"Guys, just try to be nice tonight okay?" Buffy intervened. "If Spike says he's not playing, he's not playing. He doesn't have to answer the question."

"Well I can't exactly force him to. So there's no need to get all shirty about it," Xander nagged.

Spike turned on him. "That question doesn't apply to me anyway, you twat. When I got my soul back I made sure it was permanent," he revealed. "You think I would've gone through all those demon trials to accept some crappy deal with loopholes and clauses like Angel's sodding gypsy curse? One moment of happiness and poof. Gone. Lot of rot. I wouldn't live like that." Spike sauntered to the counter grabbing another beer and opening it. "So the whole question's purely hypothetical. Why would I even have thought about it?"

"Of course it's hypothetical," Xander pointed out. "It's just a game, Spike. And obviously you _have_ thought about it, or you wouldn't be getting so upset. What is it that you don't want us to find out?"

"Nothing!" Spike denied. "And I'm not upset." He tried to prove it by sitting down again, on the nearest chair, next to Angel. "I just… don't wanna think about it, is all." He took a swig from his can. Spike noticed Angel still looking at him curiously. "What?" he asked.

"Sorry," Angel swallowed. "I'm just… now you've got me wondering what your answer would be."

"Me too," Willow admitted.

"Would it be Dawn?" Angel asked inquisitively. "She's pure and sweet. You go for that."

"Never!" Spike became unexpectedly angry.

"If I had to take a guess, I'd go with Willow," Buffy decided firmly.

"Aren't I the popular one," Willow seemed a little chuffed.

"Buffy!" Spike felt betrayed.

"What?" Buffy didn't understand why Spike was so agitated. "You nearly bit her a couple times, if I recall. There was that time you kidnapped Xander and Willow, and locked them in the factory? And then that time in our dorm room after you got the chip?"

"That was a long time ago," Spike gulped, mortified.

"It's probably me," Xander told them, raising his hand. "Spike's just embarrassed to admit he's always thought me kinda delicious. Even with the syphilis he wanted to bite me."

Spike gave them all a silent glare and took another gulp from his beer, then turned to the TV. "So, Dawn, how about this movie we're supposed to be watching. What's it called?" he changed the topic.

"See, here's the thing, Spike," Xander wasn't giving up. "You're always complaining that we don't like you, that we don't trust you, even after everything you've done. Maybe you have a point, but it's your own fault. You're the one who never lets us in. And this is a prime example. The whole point of truth or dare is to learn some stuff about your friends, to get to know them better, to trust them, right?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Oh, and you trust Angel more than ever now, knowing he'd suck on Willow's tender little neck, first soul-free chance he got?"

"I didn't say I'd feed off her," Angel clarified from his corner. "I'd probably just kill her quick, you know. I'd feel too threatened by her power - I mean Angelus would - to draw it out. I'd love to torture her of course, in an ideal world, but I'd have to be sure she couldn't get away to properly enjoy it…"

"Seriously, _that_ gets your trust?" Spike pointed a thumb in Angel's direction.

"Hey, at least the homicidal maniac is contributing. He's opening up and sharing – some pretty disturbing stuff, admittedly – but at least he's being honest. Unlike you."

"Better the devil you know, huh?" Spike said glumly into his beer.

"Exactly. And you're the devil we don't," Xander accused.

Spike sighed in frustration. "If you don't already know, I'm not telling," Spike added quietly. "It's better this way."

"Better for who?" Xander pointed out.

Spike ignored him.

They all turned to try and watch the rest of the movie, but the issue of Spike's unanswered question still hung in the air and Xander wasn't letting it go. "You want to be all mysterious, that's fine," he kept talking to Spike, over the movie. "Go with that, if you think that's working out for you. But that's not what gets you friends. Or trust. And you wonder why you're always the one left out in the cold."

"So, what are you suggesting?" Spike scoffed. "I should be more like you? Out and proud about what a useless loser and a sap I am? How's that working out for you Xander? Feelin' a lot of respect and admiration coming your way?"

"Can you two shut up?" Dawn hissed. "I'm trying to watch my movie, here."

"You want us to shut up? Let's resolve this," Xander reasoned. "Then we can all move on and finish watching the movie, safe with the comfort of knowing exactly who Spike would be looking to slaughter if he came over soulless. Let's have a vote. Hands up if you think Spike should just answer the frickin question."

"Oh, come on," Spike objected, "The others don't really give a fig about…" he stopped when one by one they all raised their hands.

"You're all daft. I'm leaving," he got to his feet.

"Hey, you can't leave, we voted," Willow pouted, offended.

"Then _stop_ me," Spike said angrily, making for the door.

"Okay," Angel was beside him in a flash, grabbing his shoulders and pinning him to the wall. "Come on Spikey. It's not like you to ruin a party. Just one little answer to one little question. Not like you have to write an essay. It's multiple choice. You got five options. All you gotta do is pick one."

"What, are you simple?" Spike snarled and began to struggle but Buffy called out, "Please, you guys, no fighting in the house! We just got the walls fixed."

"Fine," Spike relented when Angel's grip did not. "What…" he gritted his teeth, "was the question again?"

"If you lost your soul, right now," Dawn stood and repeated the original question, "Who in this room would you kill first?"

"And your answer is…" Angel prompted, giving the other vampire a bit of a shake. The dread in Spike's wide eyes startled him. "Come on, Spike," he encouraged. "It's not so hard. Just play along. You can say it. I did. Just…whisper it to me."

Spike snarled. He leaned in and hissed something into Angel's ear, before shoving him roughly aside and bolting across the room and out the front door, his black coat flapping behind him.

"Goddam it, Spike," Xander whined. "It's not enough to spoil the game, you have to spoil the snacks as well? What a jerk!" He picked up the plate of nibbles that Spike had knocked over in his hasty exit.

"What did he say?" Buffy asked Angel.

Angel turned to them, a little stunned, and repeated Spike's exact words. "Myself, you dumb git."


	2. Outside In

Outside In

"Well that was unexpected," Xander said looking up from tidying the spilled food on the floor. "Spike thinks he'd kill himself before he killed any one of us? Even without a soul?"

Spike's revelation had left them in stunned silence, although the TV still played on in the background until Dawn hit pause on the remote control. She didn't want them to get distracted and just go back to watching TV like nothing had happened. She didn't want them to ignore this or brush it off the way they usually did when Spike said something peculiar. It was about time they talked about some stuff. Also, she didn't want to miss this part of the movie.

"I didn't even consider that," Willow admitted, her eyes wide with sympathy.

"There were _six_ options," Angel muttered, "not five." Then clenched his hands with an angry growl. "Why's he always got to show me up like this? Make me look like the bad guy and the dumbass?"

"Do you think it's true? Would he really do that?" Xander asked the others, his usually spiteful tone towards Spike wavering.

"Well, like Spike said, he can't lose his soul, like I can," Angel pointed out, still fuming. "So it really doesn't matter. Cos it's _not_ gonna happen."

"Thank God," Willow emphasized, doing her worried eyebrows. "No wonder he doesn't want to think about it. Although I guess he has, you know. Thought about it. And it wouldn't be the first time," Willow reminded them. "Xander, remember that time we caught him trying to stake himself? When he was depressed?"

"Spike was depressed?" Angel looked at them, his anger dissipating. "When? Was this after he got his soul back? You know I was pretty down for, like, a hundred years, after that happened to me."

"No, no, Willow means that time he shrunk his clothes and they didn't fit," Xander made it sound so trivial.

"Oh," Angel frowned feeling left out and a little confused.

"He had that chip in his head and he couldn't hit anyone," Willow tried to explain. "And he was living with Xander in his basement."

"Well, that's understandable I guess," Angel said. "Considering the circumstances. But how suicidal could he suddenly feel if he lost his soul? I mean being soulless is… it's the ultimate freedom. No conscience, no remorse, no regrets… Perfect liberty to pursue and satisfy and whatever perverse pleasures I… should stop talking." Judging from the looks the others were giving him he realised he had probably done enough sharing for one day. He fell silent.

"It's different for Spike," Buffy pointed out. "He _choose_ to get his soul back, when he didn't have one," she voiced her thoughts as she thought it through. "He fought for his soul. He suffered for it. And yet he told me once that the demon trials he went through were nothing compared to…" How had Spike put it? That he'd come to redefine pain and suffering after falling in love with her? She couldn't tell them that. She frowned as she tried hard to express her understanding of it. "He was trying so hard to be good even before he had a soul. But I think he came to realise it wasn't possible, that there was always something he was missing, that he just couldn't grasp… I really think he felt he just couldn't live without a soul anymore."

"He told you that?" Dawn asked. "When did he realise… Oh, you mean after what he did to you… I mean tried to do…" Dawn stammered. Suddenly she realised that they were not supposed to talk about that. Especially in front of Angel. Buffy would kill her. She clapped her hand over her mouth.

"What did he try to do?" Angel began to ask, turning to Buffy.

"It's not important." Buffy said a little too quickly. Everyone was silent. Buffy spoke again, quietly. "What Spike did was wrong. Absolutely. But he didn't have a soul. And after all the shitty things I did to him…"

"Hey, like you said, he didn't have a soul. So it doesn't matter," Xander told her, trying to alleviate her guilt. "It doesn't count."

"He didn't have a soul. But I did," Buffy pointed out. "And I saw how hard it was for him. Trying so hard to be something he could never be. Now that I'm thinking it through, it's pretty clear. It's clear as day. I have no doubt. If Spike lost his soul, if there was no getting it back, he wouldn't want to live."

"I believe it too," Dawn agreed with her sister.

"Wow," Willow breathed. "I guess we kinda forget it's pretty incredible what he did. I mean, do you think Angelus would ever choose to have his soul returned Angel?" she looked at Angel.

Angel spoke with certainty. "Not in a million years."

"See? I knew he was keeping something from us," Xander said. "I just thought it was something terrible." He stopped. "I mean suicide is terrible. Terrible," he repeated sheepishly.

Angel gave a faint lopsided smile. "Spike's always been one twisted, fucked up vampire, that's for sure."

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Dawn spoke up. "When do you think he'll come back? I mean, he'll come back, right? He'll have to before sunrise, at least."

"What do you mean?" Angel looked at their unknowing faces, suddenly realising he was the only one aware of Spike's whereabouts. "Guys, Spike hasn't taken off anywhere. He's just out front. On the porch."

"What?" they asked. "How do you know?"

"That window's ajar. I can smell the tobacco smoke," Angel explained. He couldn't see through the curtains, but he could picture Spike leaning against the railing, shoulders hunched, not five feet away. "I mean he's probably heard every word we've said. Vampire hearing, you know."

"Oh," they all breathed.

Angel leaned back and tapped on the window. "Spike, quit sulking and come back inside!"

"Why?" they heard him yell from outside the window. "So you lot can interrogate me some more? Not bloody likely!"

"No more questions! We promise!" Xander called out.

No answer.

"I'm gonna make hot chocolate," Dawn decided all of a sudden. "Who wants one? Buffy? Xan? Will? Anyone?" She paused. "Angel? I didn't think so." She was speaking a bit louder than necessary as she got to her feet ready to head to the kitchen. "You know, we have those little marshmallows too. Who doesn't love those?"

When the door opened and Spike crept back inside and sat down on the couch, Dawn handed him a steaming mug of hot chocolate and the whole bag of marshmallows. Once everyone had their drinks she grabbed her blanket and snuggled up in the centre of the couch between Spike and her sister. "Okay, everyone good? _Now_ can we all finally concentrate on the movie?" Dawn glared at them all in mock disapproval before pressing play on the remote control.

"See?" Xander leaned towards Spike, speaking pointedly in a loud whisper. "Now you're not out in the cold."

Everyone shushed him in friendly annoyance and they all settled in to enjoy the movie together.


	3. Weird Dream

Angel and Spike sat down at an empty booth at the back of the busy nightclub, a favourite late-night hang-out of Buffy and Willow's, while Xander ordered drinks at the bar. Since the two vampires were in town they had gone out patrolling with Buffy, 'for old time's sake' as Angel had put it. Their expedition to the local cemetery had been more eventful than expected, but now the slaying was done, Buffy wanted to relax and have some more catch-up time. She was planning to join them but had wanted to go home and change into 'something less splattered with demon gore' as she had put it. Xander had tagged along the whole time, not wanting to miss out on 'the fun'.

"Here we go," Xander told the two vampires as he placed three brimming mugs of beer on the table. "On me. Cheers."

"Cheers," Angel gave Xander a crooked smile as they chinked glasses. He was surprising himself how much he was enjoying this trip to visit the Scoobies. He even seemed to be getting along with Xander. "Just like old times huh?"

"Right," Xander agreed cheerily despite the fact he couldn't remember any time in the past when the three of them had been drinking buddies. "Spike?" Xander prompted the other vampire.

"What? Oh, yeah." Spike looked up from his reverie. "Cheers, mate."

"Spike, you seem a little… off," Angel commented. "Back at the cemetery too, come to think of it. You weren't exactly jumping into the fray."

"Hey," Spike defended. "Staked my share of vamps, didn't I? Four vamps to be precise, not to mention one of those other demony creatures." They accidently had come across three demons of a type Spike was not familiar with and the disgusting creatures had kept following them. Buffy had slain one by slicing out the heart, Spike had managed another, and the third had got away.

"I'm not trying to knock your performance, Spike. Just an observation. Usually you're a little more…"

"What?"

"Enthusiastic?" Xander offered. "Destructive? Blood-thirsty? Loving the violence?"

"All of the above," Angel nodded.

"Sorry I didn't put on enough of a show for you," Spike apologised sarcastically. "Still, got the job done. That's what counts, right?"

"No complaints here," Xander admitted with a shrug, remembering when Spike had staked a vampire that had taken him by surprise.

"It's just not like you, that's all," Angel said, wondering what Spike meant by 'putting on a show'. "Sure you're feeling alright?" he asked, eyeing Spike with concern.

"Yeah," Spike stressed defensively, leaning away from Angel's penetrative gaze. "Just… not really in the mood for killing things tonight, is all." He took a swig on his beer.

"Not in the mood for killing things?" Angel was incredulous. "And _killing_ things didn't put you in the mood for killing things? Thought you lived for a good kill. This could be serious. What's going on Spike?"

Spike put his mug down and shifted uncomfortably. "Didn't sleep well, is all," he admitted.

"Why not?" Angel asked. "Did Xander make you sleep in the basement for old time's sake?" He sniggered.

"Hey, my hospitality is top notch," Xander defended. Spike was staying in his spare room while in town. "Clean sheets, comfy bed, and heavy curtains to block the pesky sunlight. A shade more luxurious than that cramped little nook Buffy and Willow provided you with."

"No, it's not that." Spike stared into his beer. "Weird dream. Doesn't matter."

"What kind of a dream?" Angel asked, curious.

Spike gave him a reproachful sideway glance but said nothing.

"Good dream? Bad dream?" Angel prompted. " _Sex_ dream?" He raised his eyebrows.

"You," Spike narrowed his eyes at Xander.

"Me?" Xander reacted in panicked surprise.

"It's your fault."

"Hey, don't blame me. I can't be held responsible for what goes on in your twisted mind," Xander held up his hands.

"And your fault too," Spike told Angel. "Both of you. For pushing me about that rubbish truth or dare question last night. About losing my soul." He sighed.

"You dreamed you lost your soul?" Angel asked before their conversation was interrupted.

"Hey guys!" Dawn said cheerily, appearing at their table with an eager smile. She had her hair styled and was wearing a funky little dancing dress and dangerously high heels. Willow was with her, also dolled up for a night out. "Buffy's still on her way," Willow told them. "She told us to go on ahead. She won't be long."

"Er… she'll be a while," Dawn corrected. "She's taking ages to get ready! I wonder which of you vampires she's trying to impress?" Dawn teased, then turned to Xander. "Hope we didn't miss any fun."

Xander shuffled along the bench seat, closer to Spike, giving Dawn room to sit down at the end of the bench. Willow pulled up a stool and sat across from them. "How far ahead of us are you?" she asked, nodding at their glasses. "With imbibing the intoxicating liquids?"

"Still on our first round," Angel told her. "Spike was just telling us about a dream he had." Angel ignored the pointed shake of Spike's head.

"Ooh, I love interpreting dreams!" Dawn gushed. "Especially yours, Spike," she giggled. "Was it the one where you save the fluffy kittens and their mother invites you in for a saucer of milk? That one was the best!"

"No kittens," Spike said darkly, looking like he wanted to shrink into the corner.

Their conversation halted as a waiter brought out the fancy cocktails Dawn and Willow had ordered.

"You don't need to be embarrassed, Spike," Angel told him. "It's perfectly normal. You can't control your subconscious. Besides, I still have _those_ kind of dreams all the time."

Willow raised her eyebrows. "Guys, what kind of dreams are we talking about, here? Uh-oh. Did we girls interrupt you guys? Are you guys having guy conversations about… guy stuff?"

"Oh bloody hell, this is a nightmare in itself," Spike leaned his head back.

"Spike dreamed he lost his soul," Angel informed them all a little more loudly that necessary.

"Hey," Spike baulked. "Don't think the whole world needs to know."

"Bummer," Willow's smile fell.

"Spike, it doesn't necessarily mean anything," Angel reassured. "Like I said, I have those dreams too. Whatever terrible evil things you did, it was just a dream. Doesn't mean anything."

Spike stared at Angel. "I didn't do anything terrible, Angel. What kind of evil things do you think I did?"

"You tell me." Spike said nothing so Angel prodded. "Did you kill your friends? Or yourself? Or worse? Did you torture anyone? Did you enjoy it? That's the bit that always gets to me."

"Remind me never to give you any zolpidem," Spike said with a disturbed sideways glance. He was referring to a sleeping pill that had been in the news lately for causing sleep-walking and sleep-eating.

"Come on Spike," Angel urged. "Just tell us about your dream."

"You wouldn't understand," Spike groaned. He wished he could escape but he was trapped in the booth by Angel on one side and Xander and Dawn on the other.

"Why wouldn't I understand?" Angel was offended. "Fellow vampire with a soul, here. You can talk about this stuff with me Spike. In fact, I think you should. Be good for you. Get it off your chest. I won't judge. I can be, like, your…"

"What? My mentor? My yoda? My _therapist_?"

"Your friend," Angel finished.

Spike stared at Angel and then the rest of them, deciding whether to open up. "I didn't _do_ anything," he revealed finally. "It was just… the feeling of it. Felt awful." He sniffed.

Angel scoffed. "You didn't do _anything_? Then what's the big deal?"

"It's not. Just some stupid nonsense dream. Don't know why it got to me. Can we change the subject?"

"Tell us," Dawn encouraged. "Even if it's meaningless, Angel's right, it'll make you feel better."

Spike took a deep breath. "In my dream I got a sudden urge to make sure my soul was still there. Just check, you know? But I couldn't find it. Wasn't in my coat pocket, with my cigarettes, like I thought. Was sure I'd put it somewhere for safe-keeping but I couldn't remember where. And then I started to panic."

"Really? That's where you keep your soul?" Xander asked.

"In his dream, doofus," Dawn hissed. "Dreams are weird."

"I was looking everywhere. Frantic like. All my pockets, my boots, turned my crypt upside down. It felt... like I couldn't breathe. Which is stupid cos I know I don't need to breathe but… the feeling…"

"And you don't live in a crypt anymore either," Dawn added. "Do you?"

"I have those type of dreams," Xander told him.

"Really?" Spike looked up.

"Where I'm back in high school. I'm late for some really important test and I'm looking everywhere, in my closet, under my bed, and I just can't find my other shoe."

"Your _shoe_?" Spike was affronted. "You're comparing losing your shoe to me losing my soul?"

"Hey," Xander frowned. "Shoes are important. They give protection and support for the feet. And they have soles."

"Sounds like an anxiety dream to me," Dawn told them both. "They're fairly common."

"Listen to Dawny," Xander said. "She knows what she's talking about. She aced her psychology class."

"Thanks Xander. Anxiety dreams happen when the stress, fear, and worries in our daily life infiltrates our subconscious mind." Dawn explained. "Sometimes, when there's some crap we're not ready to deal with, the anxiety will express itself through dream imagery. Anxiety dreams often have reoccurring themes like being late for an important event or losing something important to you."

"Like shoes," Xander insisted.

"Spike," Dawn asked him. "Did you wake up drenched in sweat, feeling exhausted like you hadn't slept at all, and your heart pounding in your chest like you'd just run a mile?"

"Er, no," Spike told her definitely.

"Oh," Dawn's face fell.

"That last bit," Spike clarified quietly. "My heart doesn't pound."

"Oh, right. But the rest?" Dawn asked hopefully.

"Also, I don't sweat much. Side effect of being dead and all."

"Oh," her face fell.

"Really?" Angel asked as a quiet aside to Spike who nodded. "Huh. Guess I must've been one sweaty guy when I was alive."

"Other than that, fairly accurate," Spike told Dawn.

"Wow, Dawny," Willow grinned appreciatively. "Impressive."

"Thanks, Will," Dawn grinned. "Those type of dreams are not uncommon, Spike," Dawn reassured. "As long as you're dealing with the stuff in your waking life, I wouldn't worry. She shrugged. "Everyone has them from time to time."

"So did you find it?" Xander asked.

"What?"

"Your soul. In your dream. Did you find it?"

"Yeah," Spike confessed.

"Really? Damn it! I _never_ find that shoe. And I have that dream over and over," Xander lamented. "Always wake up still looking for it."

"Wish I'd have woken up before I did," Spike confessed with a shudder.

"What happened?" Angel asked, his sharp eyes noticing Spike's reaction.

"Well, I was still searching my crypt, but starting to give up hope. Then I became aware of a shimmering light falling on everything around me. I looked up. And there it was. My soul. Floating in the air. All golden. Sort of sparkling. Like ripples of sunlight through a stream. It was beautiful."

"Wow," Willow gushed at Spike's lyrical imagery. Dawn nodded knowingly. Spike's dreams were the best.

"I reached out," Spike continued. "But the moment I touched it, my soul changed. Fell into my hands. A putrid decaying mess. Heavy, cold and slimy. Revolting." Spike shuddered at the memory.

"No more sparkles?" Dawn squeaked in disappointment.

"You know, that sounds like a pretty accurate description of your _heart_ , not your soul," Angel quipped unkindly.

Spike glared at him. "Forget it. Load of tosh anyway. Why would I be afraid of losing my soul when I know it's not possible?"

"Your subconscious is not always logical," Dawn explained. "Besides, what you fear in your dream may only _represent_ what you fear in real life."

"So, if I'm not afraid of losing my soul, what am I afraid of?" Spike asked.

Dawn was unable to provide an answer. Nor did the other Scoobies seem to have any ideas.

"Losing everything else?" Angel suggested.

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "Like what? Don't have that much anyhow."

"I don't know. You tell us. Your place in the world. Your friends. Your mind. Your conviction." Angel brainstormed. "Your good looks. Want me to continue?"

Spike closed his arms around his beer, looking down into its depths. "Hey, there's an ant in my drink!" he complained.

"Your appetite." Xander added.

"Or maybe it's the opposite," Angel claimed ominously with a sidelong glance. "You're not afraid of losing your soul, Spike. You're afraid of actually facing up to the truth of having it back."

Spike became deathly still. "Why do you say that?" He sensed repressed anger in Angel's low voice.

"You weren't cursed by some unscrupulous gypsy out for revenge like I was. No, it's worse than that. You brought this on _yourself_ , Spike."

"Yeah, I know." What was the bastard getting at, Spike wondered.

"But _do_ you, Spike? Do you really understand what you've done?" Angel pressed him. All of them could tell this was something that had been bugging Angel for a while.

"Chose to get my soul back. So I can be good. Not an evil thing anymore," Spike declared naively.

"And in doing that…" Angel paused, suddenly acutely aware that the Scoobies were all listening intently, while sipping on their drinks. He lowered his voice. "You know Spike, maybe we should discuss this another time. In private."

"Why?" Spike scowled. He hated how Angel always suggested they should talk in private but then when they were, he avoided talking at all. "You brought it up, Angel. Besides, I'm not ashamed of what I've done," Spike declared.

"No? You _should_ be!" Angel burst angrily. "You committed a greater evil in that act than all the lives you took as a vampire!"

"How so?"

"All those people we murdered back in the day," Angel explained. "We killed their bodies but… their souls…"

"You could never touch their souls," Willow realised, following his train of thought.

Angel shot her a knowing glance. At least everyone wasn't as slow as Spike. "Where those souls went," Angel murmured to Spike, "heaven or hell or somewhere in between, was up to _them_ , determined not by us but by the life they chose to lead - until we ended it." He slipped a little into a faint Irish drawl, remembering how he had made an art of tormenting his victims, going to all lengths to bring out the worst in them, tip the scales in favour of hell, before he took their lives. Spike had never understood.

"Until you _murdered_ them. Still pretty evil in my books," Xander pointed out, straining to catch Angel's words above the background chatter and music from the dance floor.

"Of course it is!" Angel snapped. "But what Spike's done?" Angel scowled. "He condemned an innocent human soul to suffer for all eternity. And why? Just for a chance to get into Buffy's pants." Angel snorted harshly. "Should've just let her stake you, Spike."

"Ha! Funny you should say that," Dawn couldn't help herself. "Cos if you'd been there, Angel, you would have staked him for sure. After what he tried to do to…" Dawn clapped her hand over her mouth.

Xander was trying to follow the thread. "What innocent soul? What are you talking about?" he asked confused.

"Well not anymore it isn't, but where do you suppose Spike's soul was returned from when he won it back in those demon trials?"

"Er…" Xander looked over at the others. Dawn and Willow said nothing, just slurped on their cocktails expectantly.

"Spike?" Angel asked. "Where do you think your soul was for those hundred plus years you were soulless?"

"I dunno. Never thought about it." Spike shrugged.

Angel shut his eyes momentarily. It was painful how dense Spike could be sometimes. He sighed and told them. "Buffy's not the only one who's been expelled from heaven."

"What?" Spike stirred. "How can you honestly think my soul was…"

"Because Drusilla sired you, you dim-wit!" Angel was becoming exasperated. "She looked around for the sweetest, most innocent, vulnerable soul she could find. And she found you. It's what she does. You know that Spike. You remember how she always loved to go for the little children. You remember all that nonsense she'd prattle on about, saying she was their saviour, giving them what their mommies never could, to send their souls to heaven before they sent themselves to hell. You were no different. Spike."

"I wasn't a child," Spike frowned sulkily at Angel's description of his human self.

"Course not. But you basically had the innocence of one. You were so naïve," Angel sniggered, remembering. "Don't get me wrong Spike, you were no saint. And if you'd lived for much longer as a human no doubt you would've screwed things up. Committed sins of one kind or another. We all do. But Dru found you before that happened. When she took you, your soul was still pure. Dru sent you to heaven."

"She used to tell me that," Spike recalled. "Never how I interpreted it."

"How did you interpret it?"

"Well, I thought I was in heaven being with Dru."

"Moron."

"Well how come I have no memory of it then?" Spike argued. "Buffy remembered."

"She didn't have a hundred years of vampire memories to overwrite it. Besides, maybe a part of you does remember. Like your subconscious. Hence the nightmares."

"Wasn't a nightmare. Just an anxiety dream. One dream. Apparently they're quite common," Spike defended, repeating Dawn's words. "Everyone has them from time to time, right? Even Xander. Nothing to write home about."

"What else did Dawn say? These kind of dreams are a sign of shit that you're not dealing with. You're in denial, Spike. One day it'll hit you, and then you'll…"

"What? Turn into a brooding pitiful mess like you were for a hundred years? Bit melodramatic for me, mate. Guess I'm not as religious as you. I mean do you honestly believe in all that heaven and hell hogwash anyway? Bollocks, if you ask me. Who's for another drink?"

…..

A little later, after another round of drinks, Dawn and Xander managed to drag Willow and even Angel onto the dance floor. Spike slipped outside into the litter strewn alley without them noticing. He sat on the lid of a trash can and reached for a cigarette from his coat pocket. But just like in his dream, the pocket was empty. He shivered involuntarily and looked about the shadowy surroundings. Dark clouds were gathering, drawing a shroud across the moon. A sudden gust dragged a paper cup spinning across the path. Suddenly he heard a sound of something creeping stealthily behind him. He jumped to his feet, the trashcan lid clattering to the ground, his face morphing quickly as he braced to face a potential foe.

Buffy stepped out of the shadows.

"Never off-duty, huh?" he asked, relaxing.

Buffy shrugged. "Thought I heard something. False alarm, I hope. How about you? What are you doing out in the cold?"

"Nothing. Where I belong, innit?"

"Spike, after everything we've all been though, why do you still not feel part of our crew?"

He sighed and shook his head slightly as his face returned to its human form. " _So_ many reasons," he said emphatically. He sat down on the trashcan again grinding his teeth and staring into the gloom.

"Sure you're okay?" Buffy asked quizzically.

"Why? You think Angel's spiel on heaven and hell and condemned souls got to me?" Spike said half-forgetting Buffy hadn't been there.

"Is Angel still worrying about you?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Angel? Worried? About me?" Spike laughed. "Hardly. Just trying to rile me up. Bastard's bitter cos I don't act like the tortured soul he thinks I should be. That big broody bore just goes for the melodrama of it all: redemption, damnation and what-not. All a bit of a wank, really."

Buffy was looking at him strangely.

"You haven't been inside yet?" Spike asked, wishing he had a cigarette to puff on just to give him an air of gravitas, even if he felt like a fool.

"Just heading in now. How do I look?" Buffy adjusted the sleeves of her shimmery little number. It was made of a kind of layered floaty fabric that caught the yellow glow of the streetlight behind her.

"Like heaven," Spike said wistfully.

Buffy gave a small self-conscious smile. At first she thought Spike was flirting with her but when she looked at him his face was aggrieved, his eyes sombre.

Spike broke her gaze, staring out into the night instead. "But what would I know about that, right?"

Buffy didn't know what had gotten into Spike but she suddenly felt a wave of sympathy for him. "Come inside with me Spike," she offered, reaching out her hand, golden in the artificial patch of light.

Spike jerked away from it in unexpected horror. He rapidly recovered himself and tried to make light of it while shoving his hands stubbornly in his coat pockets. "Sorry Buff. Look, I'm just not in the mood. But you go on in, join your friends. If there's beasties still loitering in them shadows," he gestured with him head, "I'll handle it. No need that both of us be lurking out here."

Buffy watched as he backed away. His head shone brightly for a moment as he passed beneath the streetlight, then he took off and disappeared into the night.

"But I got all pretty for you," she pouted, but her words fell unheard into the empty air.


	4. Drenched

"What's up with Spike?" Buffy asked eventually after joining the others on the dance floor for several songs.

"Oh Buffy, he told us about this horrible nightmare he had," Willow explained, placing a hand warmly on her arm as they left the dance floor and took a seat. "About his soul. Just awful! I totally feel for him, you know? Especially after all those mean things Angel said. But Spike doesn't let stuff like that get to him, right? I totally admire that! How he doesn't take other people's opinions to heart. Like water of a duck's back, you know?"

"Huh," Buffy said. "So that's why I found him moping in the alley out back, all alone."

"You did?" Willow seemed surprised. "I didn't even notice him leave. Is he okay?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Buffy assured her. "Probably just ducked out for a smoke. He'll be back to annoy us all in typical Spike fashion any moment now."

"I hope so." Willow said, still a note of concern in her voice. "Buffy, some of the stuff Angel said to him was pretty heavy. That he condemned his own soul when he had it returned. Like it was the worse sin of all. Angel was… harsh." Willow didn't mention it, but part of the reason she felt so worried by Angel's words was that it reminded her of own actions bringing Buffy back from heaven. If Angel really thought it was the worst sin ever, then what must he think of her? Just as Willow was pondering that thought, Angel appeared in front of them. She jumped involuntarily.

"Hey Buffy, have you done something to your… um…" Angel concentrated hard, but gave up. "You've changed something, right?"

"I have," Buffy agreed. She'd chosen her outfit so carefully, blow-dried her hair just right, chosen the perfect earrings, carefully applied her makeup, and what did Angel have to say? You've changed? Lame. But she knew, as much as he loved her, he just wasn't one to notice what she was wearing, what she'd done to her hair, or even the colour of her eyes. Spike on the other hand… She suddenly remembered the words he'd used to describe her. 'Like heaven', he had said, sounding so mysteriously melancholy. And he still hadn't come back inside. She frowned. "Guys I think I'll just duck out for a minute."

"But you only just got here, pretty much," Angel objected.

"I want to find Spike," Buffy confessed.

"Spike? He's here. He's just… He was just…" Angel looked around.

"When I got here I thought I heard something demony out in the alley," Buffy explained. "Spike went to check it out."

"That one that got away? You think it might have followed us? I'll come with you," Angel decided.

"Hey now, what's happening?" Xander asked, joining them.

"Nothing. Angel and I are going to look for Spike," Buffy told him briskly.

"Oh, did Spikey go off for another widdle sulk?" Xander asked. "Actually I'm not surprised considering the go Angel had at him. Brutal, man."

"Hey, I'm entitled to my opinions," Angel defended.

"I think that other slime demon may be out there. That's why I want to check things out," Buffy explained. "But we won't be long."

"Ew. I'll leave it to the experts then," Xander told them, remembering the disgusting mess that slime demon had splattered everywhere when Buffy had sliced out its heart.

"Good luck," Willow called. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She cringed at the glance Angel gave her. Did it mean he thought she was evil? Okay, maybe she was being a little paranoid.

Dawn bopped over to them, gulping thirstily on a glass of water after all her dancing. "Hey, are Buffy and Angel leaving already? Out for a romantic stroll, huh? I knew it. Do you think we need to keep an eye on them?"

…

Buffy and Angel stepped outside to find the temperature had dropped ten degrees. There had been a downpour and everything was rain-soaked. Cold puddles of dark liquid scattered the uneven pavement and large drops fell intermittently from the rooftops and gutters.

"I guess this makes any scent trails pretty impossible to follow," Buffy asked Angel.

"It would," he replied, "except those slime demons reek like nothing else." Angel inhaled the air. "Especially once their innards have been slit open," he broke into a quick run, with Buffy following.

They came upon the fresh carcass lying in a darkened side alley. There had obviously been quite a struggle. The demon was practically gutted. The heart had been removed through the stomach. Slimy entrails spilled out over the wet ground, producing visible fumes as the caustic demon blood mixed with pools of rainwater.

"You think Spike did this?" Buffy asked wrinkling her nose as she stood over the gruesome scene.

"I don't think he had any weapons on him," Angel explained. "We left them all in the car. Guess a blade of some kind really would've help with the whole cutting out the heart scenario." It was the only way to kill this type of demon.

"Spike?" Buffy spoke into the eerie darkness. "Where are you?"

Whether it was vampire sight, hearing, smell or some other sixth sense, Angel seemed to know exactly where he was. He walked purposefully to a dark corner a few meters up the street. Buffy watched as he knelt and grabbed the dark cowering shape.

"Spike, you're drenched," he said. Everything was.

"In blood," Spike muttered as he stared at his pale dripping hands.

Buffy quickened her step to join them. "You shouldn't have gone after that thing on your own!"

"It went a-after _me_ ," Spike insisted, shivering in his wet coat as Angel pulled him to his feet.

"Lucky it rained," Buffy observed. "That goop is like acid or something. It was starting to eat right through my clothes earlier. And I didn't get that much on me. With any luck the rain washed most of it off you." Buffy looked at Spike. He was hunched and shaking. "Spike, are you… Are you hurt?"

Spike shook his head with chattering teeth. "D-d-don't think so." He glanced over at the grisly steaming, mutilated corpse. "I… I did that, didn't I?"

Angel nodded. "Yeah. With your bare hands. Impressive," he complimented. "And… kinda gross."

"Oh god," Spike buckled to his knees again, keeling over like he was going to throw up, if vampires ever did that.

"Right. We're taking you home," Buffy determined. "Spike, do you have a key to Xander's place?"

Spike shook his head.

"You're not going to pieces on us, are you?" Angel asked, standing over Spike.

"He just needs a hot shower. He'll be fine." Buffy said brusquely, pulling the bedraggled Spike to his feet again. "Angel, I'll go back and get Xander's key and meet you two at your car, okay?"

…

They got Spike to Xander's apartment, Angel still whining about Spike getting the caustic demon blood on his car's upholstery. Buffy told him to quit it and practically shoved Spike into the bathroom. "Stay under the shower and rinse until it stops feeling slimy and soapy," she instructed.

"What about my clothes?"

"They're ruined. Throw them out."

"Well, what'll I wear?"

"You don't have a change of clothes?"

"He didn't bring anything," Angel said, taking a seat on Xander's dining table, putting his feet on a chair.

"Angel said we were having a weekend off," Spike explained. "Didn't expect slaying and slime demons."

"Fine," Buffy told him. "Give me your clothes. If I throw them straight in the wash, maybe they're salvageable." She held out her arm. "I'm waiting."

"Now?"

Yes, now!" Spike just glared until she turned away. "Fine, I'm not looking." Buffy closed the door. "When did you become slightest bit modest?"

Angel chuckled from his perch.

Spike dropped his slimy clothes through the half opened door and then they heard the shower come on. "Angel, I'm going to the laundry," Buffy sighed, picking up the clothes. "When Spike comes out, please be nice, okay?"

"What do you want me to say?" Angel shrugged.

"For a start, don't say anything to make him more paranoid about the state of his soul. Willow told me about your little conversation."

"What that? I was only telling him the truth, Buffy. It's not my fault if Spike can't deal with it…"

"Yes it is, Angel!" Buffy got suddenly angry at him. "I don't care what you think 'the truth' is. I don't care where Spike's soul _was_ or where it's _going_. Can we just deal with the _present_ right now? If Spike's getting depressed about this whole soul-having deal, of all people you should understand. Can't you say something _helpful_?"

"Well, I don't know about that Buffy," Angel shifted moodily. "I mean it's not like he listens to me. Or cares what I think. Or trusts me, even." Angel turned solemn. "Spike doesn't want my help," he told her.

"Of _course_ he does," Buffy insisted. "Why do you think he's been following you around these last few years?"

"Because I'm great company?" Angel asked feebly.

"You're the only other vampire with a soul in the world," Buffy pointed out. "Plus, you know him. You guys have history. Without that… Angel," Buffy looked him in the eyes. "He'd be lost without you."

"Huh," was Angel's only response.

"Just… be nice, okay?" Buffy left and headed off to the laundry before Spike's clothes disintegrated further. She sighed. She loved them both but why did they have to be so juvenile? Almost made her feel like the mom, sometimes.


	5. Old Habits

When Spike emerged from the bathroom wrapped in Xander's navy bathrobe, the whole gang was hanging out in Xander's kitchen. Angel was still perched on the table like some gigantic brooding bird. Xander was pouring wine for Willow at the kitchen bench and Dawn had kicked her high heels off and was sitting at the table massaging her feet and talking to Angel. "Willow has a point, Angel," she told him. "Why do you always have to be so mean to Spike?"

"I'm not that mean." It was obvious from the whiny tone of Angel's voice that the others had already been picking on him. "I'm _not!_ "

"All that doom and gloomy stuff about his soul?" Willow gave him a threatening look. "How was that not mean?"

"Because it was true. And I was trying to help!" Angel defended. "Look, Spike's been kinda down lately. For a while now. I mean, that's why I decided we'd come here for the weekend. It's why I've been making such an effort to do fun things with him all the time, but it hasn't been working."

"So what kind of fun Spike stuff have you been up to lately?" Xander inquired. "Have you been watching his soapies with him on TV? Or joining the poker table with some creepy-looking demons? You do have a great poker face, Angel."

"What?" Angel said blankly. "No, I mean, fighting, killing, destruction. All the stuff Spike likes best."

"Um, you mean… all the kind of stuff _you_ like best?" Dawn asked.

"No. I mean… No!" Angel was confused. "That's the stuff _Spike_ likes. Right?"

"Are we talking about the same guy here?" Dawn asked. "Bleached blonde dude right? Paints his fingernails? Plays poker to save the kittens? Covers his sensitivity with sarcasm and bravado? That Spike?"

"Err… annoying blood-thirsty, vampire with obsessive tendencies and a fetish for Slayers?" Angel added.

"I'd actually agree with most of that," Xander piped up.

"Willow punched him on the arm. "Xander!"

"What? Although I'm optimistically hoping that that Slayer obsession is a thing of the past."

"I know what's going on here," Dawn smiled. "Angel's Spike is different to our Spike."

"What?" Angel was confused. "There are two Spikes?" His worst nightmare.

"What I mean is," Dawn explained, "we all act differently around different people, right? Obviously the way Spike acts when he's around you, Angel, is pretty different to how us Scoobies have come to know him. Makes perfect sense. You two knew each other back when you were both full-on evil vampires and all." She shrugged. "It's probably easy to slip back into whatever dynamic you had in the past. Pretend like nothing's changed." She grinned. "I know whenever I meet up with Janice from high school, we fall right back into acting like teenage girls, gossiping and bitching about stuff. It's fun. Just natural, I guess."

Angel scoffed. "Spike and I, we don't fall back into acting like…" He thought about what Dawn had said. "So what are you saying? That you guys know Spike better than I do?"

"Not necessarily," Dawn admitted. "People are complicated. We all have different sides and sometimes who we're with can bring out a different side to us. We kind of tend to gravitate towards the things we have in common with the people we're with."

"So what have you lot ever had in common with Spike?" Angel asked.

"Well," Willow offered. "I guess we're all kind of geeky nerds."

"Hey!" Xander objected pointlessly. "Watch who you're calling a geeky nerd!"

"I mean it in a good way, Xan," Willow smiled. "Geeks are cool now, remember?"

"Okay, I'm a geek. But I'm not a nerd."

Willow ignored him, and spoke to Angel. "Also, we all want to help Buffy," she pointed out.

"I want to help Buffy too," Angel countered.

"Yeah. Mostly by staying _away_ from her, I hope," Xander threw Angel a look.

"Angel, the main thing you and Spike have in common is your demon nature," Dawn told him. "I mean you even come from the same demon line, so it makes sense if that's the easiest way for you guys to relate. But maybe it makes you _think_ you know each other better than you do. I mean, you guys have only ever known each other as vampires. Now that you both have souls, your human sides are more important to you, right? Have you ever tried to just forget that you're both hundred-plus year old vampires and just relate to each other on a purely human level? You could be surprised by what you see."

"Yeah? I don't think we'd like each at all," Angel confessed as they all ruminated on Dawn's words.

It was during that break in conversation that Spike stepped out of the hallway. His hair was still wet and a bit curly, and he was barefoot, dressed only in Xander's bathrobe.

"Oh, hey, Spike!" Dawn and Willow welcomed him with smiles.

"Where's Buffy?" Spike asked feeling awkward. He really wanted his clothes back.

"Doing your dirty laundry, I'm told," Xander said looking his bathrobe up and down. "Angel filled us in on your little adventure."

"Er… yeah. I needed something to wear," Spike explained apologetically.

"Believe me, I'd rather have you wearing my clothes, than none at all," Xander assured him in a fairly friendly manner.

"Are you… okay?" Angel asked, glancing at Spike who still stood near the doorway as if reluctant to commit to fully entering the room.

"Sure," Spike frowned, a little perturbed by Angel's show of concern. He pulled the bathrobe a little more tightly around himself.

"Spike, this whole thing about your soul," Angel began, "I'm sorry for what I said… I guess it was a little… insensitive."

"Right," Spike pursed his lips, not sure where Angel was going with this.

Angel hardly seemed sure himself. "But, if you're having a hard time with it, well… I've been there. I get it, Spike. It can be tough. Living. With a soul. I just want you to know… that I'm… here. If you… um… need… "

"Help?" Spike helped him articulate.

"Yeah," Angel finished with relief.

"Thanks. Angel," Spike looked at him sidelong. "I appreciate the…sentiment." Silence. Spike cocked his head, a small smile creeping into the corner of his mouth. "Did Buffy make you say that?"

Angel didn't speak but gave a self-conscious huff that said it all.

Spike cackled silently, leaning his head back against the door frame. He was feeling more at ease all of a sudden. Angel was such a crack-up sometimes.

"Hey, I'm just… trying to be nice to you," Angel defended.

"S'okay, Angel," Spike sniggered. "Don't much care what you _say_ to me. I'm not Buffy, am I? Don't pine for your sweet nothings in my ear. You can wax fire and brimstone to me, all you like. Tune most of that rubbish out anyway. Sticks and stones, right?"

Angel said nothing. He was feeling slighted. Maybe fuming a little.

"Well, mostly the sticks. Of the pointy variety." Spike continued, coming into the room. "Besides, I know you're serious about all that redemption business, Angel. But no need for you to get so riled up about the state of _my_ soul. Not your problem!"

"But you make it my problem!" Angel bristled with anger. "I just still can't believe you could be _that_ stupid, Spike. I mean I always knew you were a dimwit with a fetish for virtue but…" he swooped from the table and paced the floor.

"Hey, I think you're talking 'bout yourself again, mate," Spike followed him with his eyes, "what with your penchant for nuns and all."

"…but if I'd thought for a moment you'd ever go _this_ far, I'd have staked you myself. I mean who the hell ever heard of a vampire _asking_ for his soul back? But even a stake won't save you now. Nothing will!"

Willow and Xander stared at Angel in silence and Dawn shrank to the far side of the table away from him. So much for his attempt at apology.

"Gotta live with what you've done now, Spike," Angel continued darkly, leaning into Spike. "Forever." He pulled back and retreated moodily into a corner of the kitchen near the pantry.

"Yeah. I know I do," Spike frowned. "Or… oh wait… you mean _you_!" Realization dawned on Spike, and then there were two angry vampires in the room. "Bloody hell, Angel! You feel _responsible_ for me? For the state of my soul? Is that what this is all about? _You?_ Dunno which is bigger, your guilt complex or your egotism!"

"Why the _hell_ would I feel responsible?" Angel spat with bitter sarcasm. "Just cos I made Drusilla and she went and sired you? What a looney thing to do. And I'm the one that drove her crazy. And you wouldn't have lasted _two weeks_ as a vampire if it weren't for _me_ , William! You know, you'd have to have been the last person _alive_ I'd have chosen to make a vampire!" Angel confessed angrily. "I might've drained you for an easy feed, but I'd _never_ have sired you!"

"Gee, thanks, grandsire. Really feelin' the family love coming through."

Angel swooped, pinning Spike to the wall. "Love? Family? _Feelings?_ " he growled. "What sort of a vampire says shit like that, huh? Get over it!" Angel shoved him again as if trying to release those human emotions that even Angelus had never been able to quash.

Spike winced. "Er, one with a soul, maybe?" he reminded, gasping. "And you might wanna tone down the Angelus factor in front of the Scoobies, Angel. They look about to freak." Angel let go as soon as he realised what he was doing and that Xander, Willow and Dawn were staring at them from the other side of the room. "I can see now why you thought maybe we should talk in private," Spike told him. "Didn't know you were that close to losing it."

"I'm not losing it," Angel insisted. He pulled a chair away from the table and sunk into it, turning away from the others to get a grip on himself.

"This is intense. Should we get Buffy?" Willow whispered.

"Don't. It's fine," Spike insisted a bit more firmly than he intended. He turned to see their concerned faces and tried to reassure them with a roll of his eyes. "Angel's just… being Angel." He leaned against the wall next to the other vampire. Maybe he and Angel had been hanging out together too much lately. Angel was forgetting how to act around the humans. "Things are different now, Angel. So we've got souls now. Feelings and what-not. Kinda part of the deal. No need to be ashamed of it."

Angel looked up at Spike and held his gaze for a few moments before staring moodily into space. "We have every reason to be ashamed, Spike. You know that," Angel said, crossing his arms tightly. He sighed. "So maybe your soul doesn't weigh heavily on your conscience, Spike. It does on mine."

"It's not your fault, Angel." Spike told him. "Seriously, have you thought about therapy?" Spike quipped, half-heartedly.

"Don't be a moron, Spike. This wasn't even meant to be _about_ me." He sighed again. How did Spike always end up making a fool out of him? "Why do I even try talking to you, huh?"

"You do kinda suck at it." Spike gave a rueful grin. Why did it seem everyone was conspiring to have him spill his guts, metaphorically speaking, by the time the weekend was over?


	6. Once Bitten

At that moment Buffy returned with what was left of Spike's clothes. "Oh, hey guys," she hadn't realised the whole gang was here now. "Thought I heard voices over the sound of the dryer."

"We got bored," Willow explained. She was sitting up on the kitchen counter swirling the wine in her glass. "And Dawn wanted to check up on you and Angel. Make sure you two weren't… you know…" She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Getting inappropriately close," Xander finished.

"And the answer to that is no," Buffy told them. "We _do_ know how to control our feelings you know Will, right Angel?" Angel half-turned from his spot in the corner only to silently turn back to the wall again. "What's up with Angel? Why's he in the naughty corner?"

Spike sniggered.

"Shut up, Spike," Angel glared.

Buffy looked at him a little curiously, but shrugged and turned to Spike. "Spike, about your clothes. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?"

"I want my pants," Spike said impatiently reaching for them as Buffy held out the clothes.

"Okay, well good news for the pants. They're still in one piece, but I can't say the same for your shirt. You'll have to borrow something. Maybe Xander has a shirt you could wear?"

"Please, no," Spike said emphatically. "Spare me the palm fronds."

"Right. Maybe not the best idea," Buffy reconsidered. "Since that's what led to you nearly staking yourself that time."

"I've got a spare shirt in the car," Angel told them. "He can wear that."

"And… I don't know how to tell you this, Spike, but…"

"What?"

"Your coat is ruined. Sorry! I tried to save it but…"

"Don't worry about it," Spike waved it off.

"Really?"

"He's got three more back in LA," Angel explained. "Original one got destroyed about two years back."

Buffy was shocked. "What?" She held up the shredded remains. "This isn't even the original? You couldn't have told me earlier? I've been slaving away…" She relaxed. "I'm kinda glad to know that though." She smiled wryly. "I hated that thing _so_ much. Ever since you told me that story of how you took it off the Slayer you killed in New York. I mean, she had great style but… morbid much?"

"Sorry," Spike apologised in shame.

"It's fine, I can deal." She almost handed the clothes over, but then pulled them back. "Wait. I almost forgot. Before you get dressed, show me your leg."

"What?"

"I noticed your jeans were torn at the knee. Looks like teeth marks. Did that slime demon _bite_ you, Spike?"

"Err… maybe," Spike admitted warily. Angel looked up.

"Let me see," Buffy clasped at Spike's bathrobe but he pulled away.

"You should let Buffy take a look, Spike," Xander advised. "Willow and I did some reading up on those demons." He grabbed a tattered volume from the kitchen counter and held it up. "They're pretty festy monsters, apparently. Could cause all kind of nasty infections."

"Sit down Spike," Buffy ordered, pressing Spike promptly into one of the dining room chairs. "Do you have first aid stuff, Xan?" Buffy asked.

"Sure thing," Xander went to fetch some things.

Spike watched Buffy as he allowed her to inspect his left leg. The demon's claws had left jagged gashes in his shin and calf, clear evidence where it had grabbed him, and there were deep bite marks clasped around his pale flesh, just above his knee.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "What, was that thing trying to do? Eat you?" She looked up as Xander returned, handing her a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton swabs. "Thanks, Xan."

Spike gave a sharp intake of breath as Buffy dabbed the antiseptic on his wounds and he vividly recalled the horror of being suddenly dragged to the ground by the putrid creature, and the sharp needle-like pain as its ravenous jaws bit into his flesh.

"I doubt that. I read that those things only go after virgins," Xander told Buffy. "So they'd _clearly_ not be interested in Spike."

"Really?" Angel became interested all of a sudden. "Let me see that book." Xander handed the book to him and Angel perused the pages until he found the text. "No, no, you read it wrong, Xander," he corrected. "Says here that they eat the _bodies_ of virgins."

"How's that different?" Xander asked.

"Bodies as in _dead_ bodies," Angel explained. "As in the _corpses_ of virgins. It's not the same thing."

"So they don't eat them alive? Gee, how civilised." Xander was clearly unimpressed.

"These things really eat virgin corpses?" Spike asked in alarm. "You know that's the kind of information you might want to tell a fella _before_ he goes out after one of these!" he berated Xander.

Xander shrugged. "Not exactly relevant, was it? Since none of us are virgins. Least of all you."

"Course not," Spike frowned, catching Angel's eye for a split second. "I just mean… could've been useful to know. Maybe we could've… used some bait, or set a trap… or something," he floundered. "Dawn could've come."

"Gee, thanks for including me, Spike," Dawn said. "But if you wanted me as bait that wouldn't have worked."

"What? No," Spike turned to Dawn in surprise. "Is that right? So the Slayer's little sis is all grown up now?" He sniffed. "You really make a vampire feel his age, Dawn."

"Spike, can you sit still?" Buffy complained.

Dawn flashed Spike a smile, blushing a little.

"Well, I hope he… or she… or… it... I hope it was… what you wanted," Spike told her gently.

Dawn grinned, getting over her embarrassment. "He's a he, Spike. He's a Dave. And no, he's not a vampire or a demon or anything like that. He's human. He's in my psych class. And he's nice." She grinned. "He's really nice. We're in a relationship."

"Oh, that's… brilliant. I'm happy for you," Spike said genuinely.

"Thanks, Spike," Dawn grinned happily.

"Ow! What are you trying to do, Buffy?" Spike asked.

"I told you to sit still, Spike. This bite wound is pretty deep, Spike. I think there's teeth in there. They have these needle-thin teeth that come loose. I'm going to need tweezers to get them out."

"Oh, I'll check my purse," Dawn offered helpfully. "Might have some in my makeup kit." Dawn rummaged in her oversized handbag and found her eyebrow tweezers.

"We hardly needed to use bait, though did we?" Xander continued. "After we came across those slime demons, they seemed to follow us around. And then the one we didn't kill followed us to the club. Why would they do that?"

"Ouch, are you done yet?" Spike complained as one by one Buffy extracted the razor-sharp teeth from his wound.

"Er…" Angel glanced at Spike and cleared his throat. "Xander these demons are kind of mysterious. Who knows why they do anything? They could have any number of motives we know nothing about."

"You think? But this book says they're pretty simple creatures," Xander argued. "They pretty much just feed on virgins, spread their spawn, and feed on some more virgins." Xander thought back to earlier that night. "You know Angel, after Spike and I split up with you and Buffy, they left you guys alone and followed _us_."

"So?" Angel seemed overly irritated. "Doesn't mean anything. Probably just a coincidence."

"Ordinarily, I'd assume they were after me," Xander continued. "Natural demon magnet that I seem to be. But Angel, you said this last one actually followed and attacked Spike in the alley. I mean…"

"Hey," Angel barked. "Just _drop_ it Xander."

"What is wrong with you? I'm just wondering," Xander insisted. "Aren't you the slightest bit curious? There's got to be a reason, right?"

Now that Buffy had finished with him, Spike sighed, rolled his eyes and looked up. "There is a reason, Xander. And Angel knows it." Spike looked at Angel. "You don't need to cover up the truth, Angel."

"What truth?" Willow and Xander asked from the kitchen counter. Buffy and Dawn, seated side by side at the table, also turned to look at Angel.

"What, you want _me_ to tell them? You sure?" Angel asked Spike in surprise.

Spike scoffed. "Oh, come on. You know you want to. 'Sides," he sniffed. "Not like it's some big secret."

"Okay. Well," Angel began cautiously. "Those slime demons we ran into? They _were_ after Spike. Like the book says, their kind feeds off the corpses of virgins."

"But Spike's not a virgin," Xander pointed out. "We all know that. Plenty of irrefutable evidence. That we all wish we could forget. Drusilla, Harmony, Buffy… Anya, for God's sake. Spike's not a virgin by _any_ stretch of the imagination."

Angel explained. "To any kind of mystical force or magic, nothing that happens to a vampire's body after death counts 'cos we always regenerate to the point we were at when we were sired."

"One very good reason why magic is clearly stupid," Spike said.

"Pretty funny story about how we figured that out, actually," Angel recalled. "Spike, remember that forest-clan kept trying to use you for their virgin sacrifices? You thought maybe you were doing it wrong." He sniggered. "You tried it every which way with Dru, but they still came after you. Then you even let me…"

Spike hissed threateningly and Angel shut up.

"So you're saying…" it began to dawn on Willow.

"Isn't is obvious? Spike was a virgin when Dru sired him," Angel told them all. "And technically, according to the rules of magic, he still is."

"I didn't know that," Buffy smiled not unkindly. "No big secret, huh? You just happened to skip over that part when you told me your life story?"

Spike said nothing. He was trying very hard to keep his cool about the whole 'virgin' thing, for the precise reason that he knew Angel expected him to be mortified, and was watching closely for any hint of embarrassment. The truth was he'd rather Buffy and all the Scoobies know, hell, he'd rather have the whole world know, than have Angel thinking he had one over him by helping keep his dirty little secret.

"Hard to believe Spike was _ever_ a virgin." Xander was sceptical.

"I would have guessed that Drusilla would be, but not Spike," Willow agreed. "Buffy told me Angel sired Drusilla right before she took her vows as a nun, so wouldn't she have to be..."

"You don't wanna go there, Red," Spike warned, seeing Angel's eyes darken.

"What do you mean?" Willow asked, all innocence.

"Dru was his masterpiece of evil, right?" Spike explained. "Angelus screwed her right off her rocker _before_ siring her. _Every_ way imaginable. You don't think he'd leave out the literal interpretation of that, do you? Saved that for the ultimate climax." Spike knew he'd said too much. "So to speak."

"I really wish you wouldn't speak," Angel told Spike less aggressively than he intended. The topic of Drusilla always made him feel defeated, like any kind of redemption for him was a lost cause and she was proof of that.

Willow looked horrified. Angel was so evil. How could someone so evil think she was evil?

"Is that a thing all you vampires do? That's horrible. You're saying that Angel actually ra…" Dawn began, but Xander interrupted.

"How old were you, Spike?" Xander wanted to know. "When you were sired. If you don't mind my asking. And since it's no big secret, at all."

Angel was only too grateful to return to the previous topic. "Spike would've been…" he suddenly realised he had never actually known exactly. "Late twenties?"

"I'd just turned thirty," Spike admitted truthfully. "Like ten days before."

"And you lived with your mum," Buffy grinned, knowing Xander would enjoy that piece of information. "You told me that part."

"And he spent his time composing fancy love poetry," Angel remembered from the early days.

Xander was dumbfounded. "I can't believe this! Spike, you've always teased _me_ for being a loser. And now I find out you were a thirty-year-old virgin, living at home with your mom, writing _poetry_?"

"You ever heard the phrase 'takes one to know one' Xander? Besides, like you said, it's hardly who I am _now_."

"He wasn't a _loser_ ," Angel surprised himself by defending Spike quite strongly. "It's just… times were different then. I mean this was Victorian England. Things were a little more… civilised. And Spike was upper class. Refined. Kids these days, they're out of control. Drinking and sleeping around, getting into all kinds of trouble before they even finish their education. It's ridiculous!" Angel ranted like an old man. No one was game enough to bring his double standards to his attention: he'd slept with Buffy when she was still in high school. He paused. "No offence, Dawn."

"None taken."

"Sex isn't bad, Angel," Spike told him. "It's just natural. Perfectly normal. Doesn't always have to be such a big deal. Well, except in _your_ case."

"Well, what about you, Angel?" Xander asked. "How old were you?"

"What? That's got nothing to do with it." Angel frowned.

"Why not?" Xander asked.

Angel brooded. "I wasn't exactly the model son."

"He was a right delinquent," Spike smirked. "Didn't you know? Drinking and sleeping around, getting into trouble of all sorts. Ridiculous."

"Yeah," Angel agreed remorsefully. It wasn't only his undead sins that weighed on his conscience. "I was a terrible person."

"You were just a regular messed up kid," Spike told him charitably. "But kinda brainwashed with the whole Irish-Catholic guilt thing. Root of all evil, religion is."

"So how old were you?' Xander asked again.

"It was a long time ago," Angel murmured, furrowing his brow in an effort to dredge up the memory. "I was mostly drunk. I don't remember exactly when. Or with who. I think I might have been fourteen."

"I _meant_ when did you become a vampire?" Xander corrected.

"Oh, right," Angel faltered.

"He was twenty six when Darla sired him," Spike told them with a rueful grin in Angel's direction. It seemed Angel was perfectly capable of embarrassing himself all on his own.

"Such a long, long time ago," Angel brooded, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Well," Spike straightened up. "Enough about the distant past, right? 'Bout time I put some clothes on, if Buffy lets me, and then we're gonna shift to some more cheery topic of conversation, right Angel?" His eyes fell on Buffy's sister. "Like maybe this new boyfriend of Dawn's."

"Agreed," Willow spoke for all of them with a grin. "And I'm hungry. Who's for a midnight snack? Let's make waffles!"


	7. Delicate Flowers

Willow hummed as she carried a plate full of steaming waffles into Xander's living room and the gang tucked in eagerly. They were gathered around the coffee table, Buffy and Xander on the sofa, Angel, in a chair in the corner. Dawn sat on a cushion, painting her toenails. Spike, also sitting on the floor, leaned against the sofa dressed in Angel's spare shirt (too long sleeves rolled up), his now faded jeans, and his scuffed boots that he'd pulled on roughly and was now using to kick absently at the leg of the coffee table.

Having served up her offering of waffles, Willow sunk casually onto the couch between Xander and Buffy, munching away, just as Buffy was handing Spike her phone. "Here. You wanted to know about Dawn's boyfriend? I've got pictures. Just flick through 'til you find the ones with Dawn's big goofy grin next to a dorky floppy-haired college boy."

"They're not the greatest," Dawn excused. "I mean they're great but he's cuter in real life."

"He looks… nice," Spike commented.

"He is," Dawn gushed. "He's smart too. And funny."

After they'd finished discussing Dawn's boyfriend, Spike flicked casually through the other images on Buffy's phone. "What's with the peonies?" he asked.

"The peo-what?" Buffy asked.

"Peonies. Flowers," Spike explained, showing Buffy the photos of gracefully opening flowers on a windowsill lit by morning sunlight.

"Oh, right. I gave Dawn some plants for the window box in her dorm room when she started college," Buffy explained. "She sent me these pics to prove she was looking after them."

"That's real nice," Spike told her.

"You know about _flowers_ , Spike?" Dawn asked, impressed.

"Mostly the English garden ones," Spike confessed. "Me mum taught me. She loved her flowers."

"Let's play the alphabet game with flowers!" Dawn said eagerly. "Azalea. Buffy, it's your turn next. What's a flower starting with the letter B?"

"Bluebell?" Buffy asked. "That's a flower right? Spike, your turn."

"Chrysanthemum," Spike answered quickly with the traditional mother's day flower.

"Angel are you playing?" Dawn called out across the room to where Angel, who had declined the waffles, was sipping thoughtfully on a mug of warm blood instead. "What's a flower starting with the letter D?"

"Gee, I don't know, Dawn. I don't know the first thing about flowers. Better leave me out of that game."

"No," Willow objected, adamantly. "You can't decline my yummy, scrummy waffles _and_ cop out of Dawn's game. If you don't play nice and agree to join in at least _one_ of our activities then I'll… I'll turn your mug of blood into… a toad… or… toad's blood or... do toads have blood?" She ended uncertainly.

"Fine," Angel folded. He'd tasted toad's blood back in the day, when he'd been that desperate and starving and even the rats had run out. He shuddered. He hoped never to go there again.

Meanwhile, Dawn had finished painting her nails, and noticed that Spike's nails were a mess. "Must've been all that demon goop," Spike told her, inspecting them. "Had to claw my hands right through that reeking, ugly thing to rip the bloody heart out. Bit tough on the nails, this demon slaughtering business."

" _Tell_ me about it," Buffy agreed.

"Let me paint your nails! Please?" Dawn begged Spike.

"Not with that shiny pink stuff, you don't," Spike told her, but she rummaged in her bag until she came up with a bottle of black nail polish. Spike raised his eyebrows. "That some kind of Mary Poppins bag you got there?" he asked, impressed, and reluctantly agreed.

"Flower starting with D?" Angel was still thinking. "There's gotta be something. Um… err…"

"You want me to give you a clue there Angel?" Spike quietly offered to help, while Dawn leaned over his hands spread out on the coffee table.

"Did I ask for your help, Spike?" Angel snapped. "Just give me a minute. Um…" They all waited on his answer for another minute before he finally came up with a response. "Dead flowers?" He knew it was lame.

"Really?" Spike asked. "That's all you could come up with? What about daffodil? Daisy? Dahlia?" How could Angel have lived for so long and not have even a basic knowledge of a fairly everyday topic. "Dandelion? Delphinium?"

"Stop showing off, Spike. Besides, you made that last one up."

"Did not."

"My turn," Xander said. "I've got E. Um… elm? No that's a tree. Do they have elm flowers? No, wait, I got one! Edelweiss." He said proudly.

"Nice," Spike complimented.

"Forget-me-not." Willow said next. Flowers and herbs where used a lot in witchcraft, so she felt she was at an advantage.

"Geranium," Dawn said next.

"Hollyhock," Buffy offered, rather quickly, looking up from her phone, all innocence.

"Iris," Spike thought of after a short pause.

It was Angel's turn again. The letter J. He thought for a bit. "Jasmine!" Angel managed triumphantly, remembering how he had saved everyone from world peace at the hands of the demon Jasmine. Girls names were often flowers, he suddenly realised. Maybe that would help him.

"K," Xander mused. "How come I get all the really tricky ones? And what else I want to know is: I'm confused, I thought Angel was older than Spike?"

"What? He is. Only by, a hundred years or something," Buffy shrugged. "Why?"

"Then seriously, he has no excuse for being so crap at this game. That's a lot of years he could have spent cramming. But what I really meant was, Angel's 26 and Spike's 30? I just always thought Spike was younger than Angel."

"Course he is," Angel scoffed. "Just 'cause he had a beating heart for four more years than I did. Means nothing."

"But that means he also had a _soul_ for those four more years," Xander pointed out.

"So?" Angel countered. "I've had my soul _back_ for over a hundred years now."

"Right," Xander said. "Apart from that time you lost it with Buffy and went to hell…"

"Yeah. Apart from that time," Angel said in irritation. "And also," he owned up, "one time in LA when I, well, I didn't lose it, but I had it deliberately removed and then returned again. Willow remembers. I had reasons. Long story."

"Okay. So basically you're been around roughly a hundred years longer than Spike has," Xander tried to get it straight. "And you've had a soul for roughly a hundred years longer than he has."

"What's your point?' Angel asked.

"Those extra hundred years of yours, mostly with a soul, what were you doing with yourself all of that time, Angel? Where you fighting evil? Helping save the world? Setting a good example for en-souled vamps everywhere?"

"Well," Angel shifted uncomfortably. "Since you asked. The first bunch of years after the gypsies cursed me I was mostly in denial. Tried to go about my business, being a regular vampire, despite my… soulful affliction."

"So…" Xander prompted. "You're saying you kept…"

"I kept travelling with Darla, and with Spike and Dru."

"Kept killing people?" Xander asked rather vehemently.

"Yeah."

"On purpose. Even though you had a soul?"

"Yeah," Angel confessed. "I mean I tried to mostly go for the murderers and rapists…" Angel's voice faded out.

"Right. 'Cause you'd recognise those right away. And after that first bunch of years? How did you spend the rest of the time? Not gardening or flower arranging, presumably."

"No. Mostly… I er…" Angel seemed flustered.

Spike spoke up. "'Spose you're wondering how Angel justifies trying to lord it over me, like he knows better than I do all the time, huh? Well, it's 'cos he spent a century shuffling about in alleys and sewers, feeling sorrow for himself and feeding off vermin – of the human and non-human variety. He was a tragic pitiful wreck." Spike smirked. "But if you discount all that time Angel's spent brooding, I'm likely more than a bit older than 'im. Does that about answer your question Xander?"

"Hey! Brooding is time well spent," Angel became defensive. "Besides, if you discount all the time _you've_ spent being a moron…"

"Um guys," Dawn interrupted, trying to lighten the mood by starting up their game again. "Whose turn are we up to? I think it's the letter L."

"Lilac," Willow said.

"Marigold," Dawn said.

"Man, Dawn, this is hard," Buffy whined when it was her turn. "Couldn't we have gone through different types of demons instead? Or better still, different ways to kill them? That would have been a cinch."

Angel flashed her a sympathetic smile. His sentiments exactly.

"Nasturtium," she said finally.

"Oleander," Spike said.

"Toxic," Xander commented.

"It is."

"Pansy," Xander was next.

"Right _you_ are," Spike told him. "Red's turn with Q."

"Queen Anne's Lace," Willow said triumphantly.

No one noticed Angel had missed his turn and he was more than happy to let it pass.

"Rose," Dawn said sweetly.

"Sweet Pea. No, Sweet _William_." Buffy changed her mind throwing Spike a flirty look.

"Tiger lily," Spike growled back.

Angel's turn again. "What kind of a stupid game is this anyway?" he complained, upset by Buffy and Spike's flirting in front of him. "Does anyone actually win? I mean, what's the point? Is there a point?"

"You can't think of anything, can you?" Buffy taunted playfully.

"Of course I can. I can think of lots of flowers starting with U. Heaps. Um… brella flower," Angel took a random stab in the dark.

"There is such a thing as an umbrella _plant_ ," Dawn gave him that, "but I don't know if it has flowers."

"Course it does," Angel bluffed.

"V," Xander thought. "Again with the hard ones! What starts with V? Virgin? There's gotta be some kind of virgin flower or something right? Spike? You should know, being an expert on, you know, flowers."

"Right," Spike grinned. He had to give Xander credit for that clever comment. He thought about it. "I think there is a flower called virgin's bower. From my expert knowledge. Or you could go with something more common. Violet maybe?"

"I didn't think of that," Xander admitted. "Whose turn is it now? I forget."

Willow raised her hand. "Wallflower," she chose.

"Is that an actual flower?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah," Willow nodded. I got called that at a party once in high school and I didn't know what it meant so I looked it up in the dictionary.

"X is for… Xeranthemum," Dawn pronounced it slowly and carefully.

"Dawn!" Buffy glared, grabbing her phone back from her sister, caught red handed. "No more waffles for you, Miss Cheaty-pants!"

"They're not cheetah-print, they're leopard-print," Dawn revealed. "Oops. I get it now." She blushed. "Your turn Buffy. You've got Y."

Buffy thought and thought. "Okay, My turn to cheat." She looked down at Dawn's google search for flowering plants. Oh, here we go, Ylang Ylang."

They had come to the last letter and it was Spike's turn, but he hadn't noticed the whole gang looking at him expectantly. Dawn had now finished painting his nails, and he was busy inspecting the still wet polish with a frown. "Wait, do I see sparkles in this? Niblet? Pet? You do realise right: Sparkles and vampires _do not_ mix!"

"Don't they?" Dawn asked cheekily. "Haven't you read Twilight?"

"Well, Spike?" Angel prodded. "End of the line here. You got anything to say? Or you gonna dodge the topic as usual, when you can't think of anything clever? You know, avoidance doesn't work forever."

"What?" Spike looked up to find the whole gang watching him with expectant friendly faces.

"You can't play innocent for long," Angel told him quietly, his expression impassive as ever, but his eyes much more expressive. "It's gonna catch up with you sooner or later." The whole gang registered that he was referring to more than their little game, whether he'd intended it or not.

"So," Spike gritted his teeth. "Time for my confession is it, Angel? That's a game you like to play."


	8. Game Over

"So we're starting a new game now?" Xander asked. "What do you mean confession time? What are the rules? How do we play?"

"Well," Spike said. "Usually Angel plays the role of 'priest in the confessional'. Isn't that right, Angel?" Spike knew this was a low dig likely to get Angel riled up.

Oblivious, Xander turned to Angel for more instructions.

"Don't expect _me_ to know what the idiot's on about," Angel huffed from his corner. "I was just…"

"Oh come _on_!" Spike said angrily. "Bloody _hell_ , Angel, all weekend you been prodding me. You want me to fess up to feelin' guilty over the weight of my sins bearing down on my bleedin' soul!"

What? Angel looked around, but no one seemed keen to defend him.

" _Told_ you enough _times_ ," Spike continued. "I don't _blame_ myself, like you do, for the immoral things I did when I was soulless. I'm not in _denial_ , Angel. The guilt just doesn't bother me. At least not _much_. Guess I don't see any point getting hung up on the past, tormenting myself with what I can't change. _Why_ can't you _accept_ that and just let it _go_?" Spike spat forcefully.

Angel paused before responding. "Well, I would accept it, _except_ it's obviously not true. Spike, you can't deny that you haven't exactly been yourself lately. I know something's going on with you and I'm just…"

"Yeah, yeah, hence this whole little weekend jaunt, right? And the _lot_ of you've been sizing me up behind my back," Spike accused them resentfully, then turned to Angel dropping his shoulders almost wearily. "Look Angel, I _know_ you been fretting about me of late, and I'm not saying everything's fine and dandy, be a bit weird if it was, but, _Christ_ , Angel, you just keep barking up your own bloomin' tree, so to speak! Always on about sin, and heaven and hell. You just assume _everything_ is to do with me having my soul back, and I'm not saying it's _not_ , I'm just saying…" Spike clenched his fists. 'I'm just…" They all waited expectantly for him to continue. Spike slackened and shook his head moodily. "Forget it," he waved. "Just forget it. I don't even _know_ what I'm saying."

"It's okay, Spike," Angel said softly. "You'll figure it out." He paused. "Might take you a hundred years, but eventually… you'll figure it out."

"See, there you go again!" Spike was hostile. "Figure _what_ out? _Know_ something I _don't_ , that you wanna _share_ with me Angel? Just because it took _you_ a hundred years to pull your head out of your own ass doesn't mean…" Spike clawed his hands. "Argh!" he said in frustration. "Besides, it's not _like_ that."

"Okay," Willow commented cautiously, "Should some of us non-vampires leave the room, maybe?"

"Are there any more waffles?" Xander asked. "I wouldn't mind munching on some more waffles while I watch this play out."

Willow sent him a withering look.

"What is it like?" Buffy asked quietly.

"I close my eyes," Spike murmured. "And all I see is dark, ugly things, just… horrible... things. My whole head's filled with…" Spike rubbed his hand across his forehead. "But it's _not_ the guilt," he insisted pointedly before Angel could say anything. "It's more… I don't know… like, the violence of it all. Or something. The raw, harsh actuality of being… in the crux of it." He screwed up his face for a moment. "Can't explain properly, but there's times I just don't know if I want to do it anymore, you know… keep fighting? But then I just…" he shrugged. "Guess I can't help myself."

Angel was dismayed. "Spike, you're not thinking of don't something stupid are you? Should I start hiding all the wooden objects?"

"Don't mean I want to _stake_ myself, Angel," Spike clarified. "You misunderstand. When I say fighting, I mean _fighting_. Physical, fists and fangs, fighting. Just dunno how to do it anymore."

"That's not true," Angel denied, mystified by how Spike could make such an absurd claim. "You're a phenomenal fighter. Ever since you came back, I mean ever since you became corporeal again. You beat me to that cup of Mountain Dew fair and square, and you know how much I wanted that." Angel ignored the weird looks the Scoobies gave each other. Since when had Angel liked soda? "And after all those training sessions with Illyria? Jeez, Spike, you've never been sharper in a fight. Plus, you love fighting. You love violence. Always have."

"I know," Spike admitted. "It's just… getting harder to psych myself up to it these days. Feels like it's all catching up with me somehow, you know?"

"What do you mean you psych yourself up?" Angel asked, confused. "Since when? You mean since you got your soul?"

"No. Since always. What, you never psych yourself up before a fight?"

"No," Angel shook his head. "That'd be seriously dangerous. I don't need to. Never have. That overwhelming destructive urge, it's always there. Waiting to be released. Like a dam I have to hold back at all times with the force of my will."

"So, what," Xander asked. "You just… hulk out?"

"Never," Angel told him, insulted to be compared to some stupid cardboard comic character. "Even as Angelus, I'd rein it in, I'd manipulate that tide of demonic intent to create calculated acts of pure evil. I made an art form of it. It was glorious to me."

"You were _so_ bad Angel," Willow whispered in awe. "Like a psycho manic."

"I know," Angel acknowledged, before turning to Spike. "But Spike, you can't say you don't want it, the violence, I mean you always volunteer for it. And like I said, you're so good at killing things. And I've watched you, even since getting your soul back, you can't tell me you don't still enjoy a good kill."

"Course. The demon part of me. Gotta satisfy the demon inside, right? But it's a conflict of interests, yeah? Mollifies one part, mangles another."

Angel considered that. "You _are_ pretty screwed up, I'll give you that," Angel conceded. "Thanks to me, in no small part. I mean, even your most impressive acts of evil, all the stuff you used to do to impress Dru, even killing those slayers, it never really made you evil to the core, never quite extinguished your humanity, just twisted you up inside I guess, until you couldn't tell the difference. And now that you've got your soul back, it's all unravelling. Makes sense if you're having a hard time getting your head straight. Especially considering who you were as a human." Angel smirked not unkindly. "I'll bet sweet William never even hurt a fly."

"Actually I did," Spike told him. "Once."

"What?" Angel asked.

"Felt really bad about it, though," Spike promised, straight-faced.

"You're joking right?" Angel asked, feeling foolish for having taken Spike seriously, only to be mocked for it. "God, you're such a moron, Spike! And you wonder why I can't take you seriously!" he said in exasperation, resisting the urge to slap the back of Spike's head.

"I'm _not_ joking," Spike was offended. He sniffed. "Actually it was a butterfly."

"Really?" Dawn asked sympathetically. "What did you do? Was it accidental? Tell us."

"Don't encourage him," Angel moaned.

"'Fraid not. It was when I was ten years old," Spike recalled. They all tried to picture a ten-year-old Spike. "Me mum thought it'd be good for me to stay with my uncle for a while – or actually, come to think of it, she might've been sick or something but I didn't know that at the time – anyway, my uncle, crusty old foge, you see he was right into lepidoptery and…"

"Lepidoptery?" Buffy asked. "What is that? The study of leopards?"

"Butterfly collecting," Spike corrected. "See, I liked to look at his butterflies in those fancy cabinets of his, so one day he showed me how to pin one. I skewered that pretty little thing, splayed out on the board, like he showed me, iridescent scales flaking from pinioned wings like fairy dust, tiny little legs still kicking in the air. I'd taken it from the garden and… Still think about it sometimes. All those dark, ugly, little dead things of beauty, hidden away from the light."

"Are you done? Is that the end of your moronic childhood anecdote?"

"'Scuse me?"

"What the hell am I supposed to think?" Angel spread his hands, flabbergasted. "You get torn up over an insect, but you don't feel guilt over all the lives you laid ruin to…"

"For fuck's sake, I'm not playing your game, Angel! I'm not comparing one with the other! Just tryin' to say how I _feel!_ "

"Always about feelings with you isn't it? Here I've been agonising about you for weeks and you finally come out and tell me, what? That basically your problem is that underneath it all you're still just the same big sissy you've always been? That's _it_?" Finished ranting, Angel started laughing with relief.

"Bloody hell, Angel." Spike gave up. "Dunno what you want from me. I swear I don't know what the point of any of this is."

The gang all wondered if they should do something, but Angel got up from his spot in the corner and wandered the room, carefully pretending to study the mantelpiece.

"Look I know you hate the comparison Spike, but… _feelings_ aside, you know you're a lot better off than I was five years in from having my soul returned. Practically, speaking," he pointed out. "For a start you're not shambling through alleys, feeding on rats. Here," he came over to them, and handed Spike his still almost full mug.

Spike accepted it, knowing Angel was right, he should eat something more revitalising than Willow's fluffy waffles. He gazed into the pool of blood. He gulped. "And what if it does take me a hundred years to get my mojo back? You plan on stickin' around, Angel?" Spike realised how needy that sounded and added derisively: "A century with you and I bloody well might be ready to stake myself."

Angel shrugged. "All depends. I guess." It was something Angel had been debating in his mind.

"On what?"

Angel was silent. On whether he could be any good to Spike, despite his best intentions. Bad things happened to people who stayed by his side, if history was not to be ignored. He turned his head to look at Spike, sitting against the sofa, legs and big shoddy boots pulled up in front of him, surrounded by Buffy and the Scoobies, looking all cosy and friendly despite being the oddest rag-tag bunch of unlikely individuals. They'd all been through a lot in Sunnydale and still stuck together.

"That's something else I never had. You got friends. You don't have to do this all alone."

Spike looked up from his mug. "Friends like… you?"

Angel frowned, still not sure whether he was included in that category.

Spike frowned. "Well, thanks for the pep talk Angel. Real sweet of you." Spike quipped. "But, I think I'll call it a night." He pushed the mug onto the coffee table and got to his feet, stumbling a little as he stepped on his undone bootlaces to avoid treading on Dawn's bag.

Angel stepped in front of him, preventing him from leaving the room. "Hey, I'm sorry, Spike. Didn't mean to embarrass you in front of the gang. Well, not much."

"Just drop it, Angel. I don't care what you say to me. And mostly you embarrass yourself, you _do_ know that, right? Look, I'm just tired, okay?" he sighed running a hand over his face. "I'm so bloody tired."

Angel studied him. He did look beat. Angel gave in and reluctantly stepped aside. Spike paused in the doorway. "Zinnias." he said.

"What?"

"Flowers starting with Z. Zinnias. Don't expect Angel's heard of them. Bright, happy flowers. Come in lots of colours. Butterflies love 'em."


	9. Let Loose

"I screwed up again, didn't I?" Angel asked the others, sitting down on a footstool at the coffee table once Spike had left the room. "You know it's odd. For the first few years after Spike came to LA, it was always _me_ walking out on him. Not that it did any good, he hung around like a bad smell. _So_ annoying. I just wished he'd leave me alone - even if it meant taking off after Buffy."

Buffy gave Angel a furtive grin. It had been a long time before she'd even found out Spike was alive, let alone hanging out with Angel in LA only a day-trip away.

"Crazy times, huh?" Xander said.

"I don't think it wasn't a total disaster," Dawn told him. "It's just… things are mixed up. It's not all going to get sorted out in one conversation. There's still a lot of stuff you don't know, like…" Dawn noticed the glare from Buffy. "But you did get him to talk about his feelings. That's progress, right?" she pointed out.

"Maybe," Angel said thoughtfully swirling the mug of undrunk blood. "I don't know what I expect from him, really. I mean, I could be imagining things but I just keep getting the feeling I'm missing something. That he's not… telling me everything, you know? That I _could_ help him if I actually understood. If I could just get to the bottom of it." He drained the mug. No point letting good blood go to waste. "Of course, it would help if he didn't annoy me as much."

"Spike's fine," Buffy assured Angel, brushing away his concerns. "I'm sure he's just tired, like he said. After slaying that slime demon, and all. Speaking of which, I could use some shut-eye myself. It's probably time for us all to head off. Right, Dawn?"

"Right," Dawn said dryly. "Just when Angel, your supposed soulmate, wants to talk to you about, you know, actual _stuff_. Of course it's time to leave. Makes perfect sense."

"Will?" Buffy motioned.

"Buffy, I probably shouldn't drive, after all the drinkies." Willow conceded. "I'll leave my car here and pick it up tomorrow. Maybe Angel can give us all a lift back to your place?"

"Sure," Angel agreed and they headed out, bidding Xander goodnight.

"Hey, it's been a real blast," he assured them. "I'll come round after work tomorrow, Buff. Catch Angel and Spike before they leave, right?"

"Night, Xander," Buffy nodded. "Thanks for everything. Really."

…

Back at Buffy's Willow bid them goodnight and disappeared into her room, Angel slumped broodily onto the sofa, and to Buffy's dismay, Dawn, instead of heading to bed, sat down in the living room too. Irritated, Buffy stayed standing.

"Dawn…" she began, not sure how to subtly send her sister to bed without inciting objection. Especially since Dawn was officially on holidays.

"Buffy, I'm a grown-up now, remember? I don't have a bedtime and even if I did, it's not your job to enforce it." She turned sly. "I _will_ go to bed though," she assured, "if you stop dancing around…"

"No one's dancing, Dawn," Buffy sighed. She wished the gang, especially Dawn, would quit worrying about anything happening between her and Angel.

"… the _issue_ , Buffy," Dawn clarified. "I'll leave the room when you promise to: _tell Angel_." She focussed a hard stare at her sister.

"Tell me what?" Angel asked.

"Nothing," Buffy snapped. "Dawn, that's none of your business."

"Yes, it is Buffy!" Dawn sat forward. She was becoming more adamant. "This isn't just about you and Spike, or even just about you and Spike and Angel. I mean, since we have been talking about guilt and all, do you know how guilty _I_ feel?"

"Why would you feel guilty?" Buffy asked, then changed her mind and snapped, "No, we're not talking about this right now, Dawn!"

"Yes, we are, Buffy!" She whined in that annoying little sister tone. "Didn't you hear what Angel said earlier: that he feels responsible for Spike having a soul? How can you let him take all the responsibility like that? Without knowing? He's worried about Spike. He wants to help him. But how can he understand any of it when he doesn't even know _why_ Spike got his soul returned in the first place?" Dawn pleaded.

"Dawn, I know, okay?" Angel tried to settle her. "I know all about Spike and Buffy. I know they had a 'relationship'," he grudgingly used that word.

"You _do_?" She doubted her take on the situation only momentarily. "No. Angel, when we were out you said Spike got his soul back for a chance to get into Buffy's pants. I mean, that's not true at all! Is it, Buffy?"

"Sure it is," Angel asserted, and tried to prove how much he knew by summarising the chain of events he had pieced together. "Spike had that chip in his head. He couldn't kill Buffy, so instead the idiot formed some twisted crush on her. His obsessive nature meant he couldn't let it go. Got so desperate he had his soul returned. He and Buffy got together for a bit - never a serious relationship of course, I mean who in their right mind could stand to be around that Spike for long - then he burned up in the hell mouth. End of story. Until he turned up to haunt me in LA." Angel paused. "Dawn, we don't need to go over this." He shuddered. "I'd rather be spared the details, to be honest."

"See Buffy? See how mixed up he's got things?" She turned to Angel. "You don't even realise, Angel, Spike and Buffy had already been sleeping together _before_ he got so desperate that he tried to…"

"Dawn, don't you dare…" Buffy warned threateningly.

Dawn turned to her sister, dropping her voice, "I've never told you, Buffy, but it's _my_ fault Spike came to see you _that_ day. He _would_ have stayed away from you. Maybe he would even have staked himself, or at least left Sunnydale, if I hadn't..."

"What did you do, Dawn?" Buffy sounded horrified, then recovered herself. "It doesn't matter. Dawn, you were a _kid_. How could any of it possibly be your fault?"

Buffy had meant it to be a rhetorical question but Dawn launched in. "I went to see him. In his crypt. Earlier that evening. On my way to Janice's. He was pouring vodka in his blood like it was gonna wash the world away," she recalled. "He was in such a black mood, but I didn't care. I was so angry at him. At everyone. For screwing everything up. For not talking to me. For not getting along. For being miserable all the time. I told him off. For cheating on you with Anya. I told him how much it'd hurt you. I asked if he truly loved you and he looked at me like…" Dawn shuddered remembering the tortured look in Spikes' eyes. "I just know it never would have happened if it wasn't for _me_!"

"Dawn, of _course_ what happened wasn't your fault," Buffy tried to tell her, saddened that Dawn could have felt this way for all this time and never told her.

"Buffy, what's she talking about? What wouldn't have happened?" Angel asked more insistently, growing more agitated as he tried to follow their heated conversation.

But Buffy ignored him, fighting back tears. "Dawn, why didn't you ever tell me this?"

"When could I have told you Buffy? With everything going on? And now nobody will talk about it! Not you. Not Xander, or Willow. Not Spike! And Buffy, you and Angel used to be _so_ close, and now it's like there's this insurmountable wall between you."

Buffy and Angel shared a strained glance through that invisible wall.

Dawn continued. "And we've all been hanging out this weekend like we're all just the bestest friends, but it's not true is it? It's all a lie! But it doesn't have to be this way, Buffy. You have to stop keeping secrets to protect people. You don't give any of us the credit that maybe we can actually _deal_ with it, if you just give us a chance."

"Dawn, it's more complicated than that," Buffy sighed. Poor little Dawn, always wanting everyone to be friends and get along, but she never seemed to recognise the myriad of very real dangers and complications that would be let loose if those barriers came down. "And even if it wasn't, it's not my place to tell. If Spike wants to tell Angel then that's up to him…"

"Tell me what?"

"And what if he _does_ , Buffy? What if he does tell Angel? You know he wouldn't be able to tell the _whole_ truth. What _led_ to it? He couldn't if he tried because in his version…" Dawn knew the extent of Spike's adulation for Buffy better than anyone, after all she'd know he was in love with her sister long before any of the others clued onto it. "Buffy, _you_ have to be the one to tell Angel. Not just because you owe it to Angel, but because Spike would _never_ say a single word _against_ you. He wouldn't tell about all the things you did to him. He'd only tell what _he_ did. And Angel would never forgive him."

"What did he do?" Angel asked. "What did Spike do?"

"Nothing. He didn't, even," Buffy shook her head. "He didn't get that far. I stopped him."

"He didn't _what_?" Angel asked again.

"Rape Buffy," Dawn finally spoke those taboo words she'd been threatening to let slip all weekend.

"Get out, Dawn," Buffy ordered, watching Angel's expression darken.

"Buffy, I'm not a kid. You can't tell me what to… Oh," Dawn faltered as she saw Angel's face change into its demon form and he snarled, revealing threatening fangs.

"On second thoughts maybe someone _else_ needs to get out," Buffy grabbed Angel and steered him towards the front door. "Thanks a lot, Dawn. Just stay inside and lock the door. I guess Angel and I are gonna have a little moonlight tryst after all."


	10. Heart to Heart

"No wonder you left him to burn in the hell mouth!" Angel raged, striding swiftly down the shadowed leafy street. "Spike made out his death to be so heroic and so romantic! _That's_ his twisted idea of love? No wonder he never told you he was alive!" he laughed harshly, as if it all suddenly made sense. "I've been wondering why his soul hardly seems to have changed him on the surface. I thought maybe he was just keeping up a front, kept believing there must be more going on beneath the surface, but I guess underneath it all he really hasn't changed a _bit_!"

"Of course Spike's changed, Angel!" Buffy tried to keep up with him. She had a bad feeling about the direction Angel's feet seemed to be taking him. "What Dawn said, what he tried to do, it happened when he was _soulless_! Angel please, just stop and listen to me!" She grabbed his jacket. "He was so torn up about what he'd done – what he _could_ have done! _That's_ the reason he went and got his soul back!"

"Why are you defending him, Buffy?" Angel turned on her, outraged and appalled in his misunderstanding. "I _know_ that can't be true! For one thing, he still had that government chip in his head _after_ he got his soul, so he _couldn't_ have hurt you then! Besides, Dawn just said you were _already_ with him when it happened. It must've been _after_ he got his soul back because it was _after_ you'd been sleeping with him! And don't pretend that you and Spike never had sex. He's always taunting me about how many times…"

"Really?" Buffy halted. "How many times? He kept count? Cos, I mean I lost track of the number of times way before…" Buffy stopped herself when Angel growled with jealous rage. She grabbed his arm but he pulled roughly away from her and kept on his path. "Just _listen_ to me Angel!" she yelled after him in desperation. She had to slow Angel down, make him listen before it was too late. "You've got it all wrong! It happened when he was _soulless_! I _swear_! Do you hear me, Angel? _Everything_ happened when he was _soulless_!"

"Everything?" Angel forced himself to pay attention to her words. He slackened his pace. "What do you mean? How is that possible?"

Buffy caught up. "The chip didn't work on me." It was the first time she'd come clean to anyone about that. "Not after I came back," Buffy revealed.

"What?" Angel stopped and when he turned to her, his face was his own again. "So… ever since you were resurrected… he could hurt you?" Angel asked, shocked and troubled.

Buffy nodded. "No one knew. No even Spike, for a while. He'd gotten used to having the chip, so he hardly ever _tried_ to hurt anyone. Plus he was in love with me, so he didn't _want_ to hurt me - r at least only when he lost his temper," she corrected herself. "When he found out he could hit me, he thought it really meant something - tried to convince me I'd come back wrong," she screwed up her face at the recollection. "That I was some kind of evil thing. Like him. He _believed_ it, Angel. Sometimes I wanted to believe it too," Buffy admitted. "Just for some explanation for why I felt the way I did, an excuse to stop caring. But I didn't tell anyone. I knew it was wrong and for a while I didn't care. _That's_ when we started having sex, Angel," Buffy confessed tearfully. "It was a mistake. A terrible misjudgement and inexcusable decision on _my_ part. Angel, the sexual relationship I had with Spike was when he was _soulless_."

" _What_?" Angel was stunned. He grabbed her firmly and shook her, his face anguished. "Buffy… how could you… with a _soulless_ thing... with _Spike_?"

"It was just sex, Angel," Buffy told him. "That's all it was to me. Or all I meant it to be." Angel let her go in disgust and stepped away. Buffy wept. "My life was so bleak then. I just wanted to feel something. I wanted a release. But I kept going to him." She could hardly believe she was telling Angel all of this but now she had started she couldn't stop. "And Spike… he wanted more. He keep trying to draw me in. Persuade me that I belonged with him now. He wanted a real relationship, whatever the hell that means to a vampire. He wanted love, he wanted everything, all of me. I _know_ he was soulless, but… I also know I was unfair to him. The things he did for me, fought for me… The things he endured, and suffered… The things he… Even small things," Buffy's face softened to a sad half smile. "You should have seen how he redecorated his crypt. He was trying _so_ hard, but I wouldn't give him the time of day. Not unless we were… you know." Angel snarled again. Buffy straightened and pressed on. "Angel, I was cruel to Spike. I think I might have really messed him up. When I finally broke it off with him, I was stupid to think he'd be able to just let it go. Or I just didn't _want_ to think. And Spike kept hanging around, begging to talk things through. I kept shutting him down." She reflected. "I had it coming."

"No," Angel turned to her, distraught with regret at not being there for her. "Don't say that, Buffy. It wasn't your fault. It can't have been."

Buffy hardened angrily. This was something that really bothered her. "I _know_ a girl's not supposed to blame herself, Angel. That it's _never_ supposed to be her fault. It's not PC. But I'm hardly some regular girl who got assaulted by some – hopefully not so regular - guy. I'm a _Slayer_ , Angel! And Spike's a soulless vampire – _was_ a soulless vampire. The only thing I was ever supposed to do to Spike was to _kill_ him. There's no wonder the whole thing blew up in my face." She sighed. "Anyway, after what happened… after what he tried to do, Spike just disappeared. Ran from my house. Left town. Didn't tell anyone where he was going." Buffy paused, remembering how she had taken Dawn to Spike's crypt for safekeeping only to find Spike had cleared out and Clem had moved in. She shrugged. "A few months later, came back with a soul."

"And then you two got back together?"

"Kinda, I guess," Buffy wavered.

"I can handle the truth," Angel promised, feeling strangely calm now. "Buffy, I could smell him all over you when I came to deliver the amulet."

Buffy smiled, remembering how jealous Angel had been. "Well, it was an impending apocalypse, Angel. You know what they're like. Imminent doom, and all? Yes, Spike and I spent those last few nights together. We slept a little. We talked a little." Buffy paused. "But Angel, we didn't do anything else."

Angel faltered. He found himself dumbfounded by this, more than anything. He sat down on a bench on the sidewalk. "Really? You _never_ had sex with Spike once he had a soul?"

Buffy shook her head, bemused by Angel's reaction.

"Huh," he tried to get his head around it. This whole time he had thought… "But plenty of times when he was soulless?" It wasn't pleasant to think about, but Angel felt strangely more comfortable with that than with the other way around.

"Oh, yeah." Buffy nodded. "Plenty. But only for a while."

"Jeez, I really had it all backward," Angel realised now. "I didn't understand at all. All those times Spike's bragged to me about being with you, I guess he never actually lied, but he must've known I… I just assumed it must have happened when he had a soul…"

"Nope," Buffy assured again, then without thinking added, "Not so far."

This incited Angel's interest and he began probing her closely, not angrily but with almost unnervingly curiosity "So… have you ever thought about getting back with him?" he wanted to know.

"I've thought about it," she admitted, embarrassed. "But really, I couldn't."

"Because of… what he tried to do?"

"Partly," Buffy admitted. "But I could get past that if I wanted to." Buffy told him honestly. "It's not forgotten but… it is forgiven." It was something she knew in her heart but had never said out loud. "I've forgiven him," she told Angel simply. "He sacrificed himself in the hell mouth for me. Saved the world. In my mind he's redeemed."

Angel thought about that. "So why wouldn't you get back together with him then?" he asked, still curious.

"It wouldn't be right," Buffy smiled a bit sadly.

"Now that he _has_ a soul, it wouldn't be right?" Angel pointed out the irony.

"It wouldn't be right for the same reason it wasn't right in the first place." She paused. "He's still in love with me, Angel."

"Well, you're not easy to get over, Buffy," Angel told her. "But… you're not in love with him?"

"I love him. But I'm not _in_ love with him. I don't think I ever was. And he knows that." Buffy shook her head. She couldn't believe she was standing here with Angel, everything out in the open Just talking. She hadn't thought it possible. She felt suddenly self-conscious. He was surprising her in how he was reacting to all she had said. She had thought these revelations would tear them apart, but strangely she felt closer to him than she had in a long time. She felt herself blush in the darkness. And Angel was so close her could probably feel her body heat. "I don't know," she confessed. "It's not like Spike and I have talked about it much." Or at all, Buffy admitted to herself. She was saying more to Angel than she'd said to Spike. "I didn't even know he was alive for the longest time, remember? I thought he was dead. That it was over. I guess I moved on." She paused. "And the fact that Spike waited so long to let me know? I think he's made his decision pretty clear."

"What decision?"

"He chose you," Buffy said simply.

"What?" Angel snorted.

"Choose to stay in LA with you. You know, I think one reason he doesn't want to be with me now, is because of you. He knows what you and I had. Have," Buffy smiled and was pleased to see Angel smile back. "Now that he has a soul, I don't think he wants to take that away from you."

Angel mused on that. The Spike he'd always known was selfish to the core, but this new Spike Buffy was describing was quite the opposite. This was going to take some getting his head around.

"Buffy," Angel looked up from the street. They'd reached Xander's apartment. They could see the heavily draped window of Xander's spare room, where Spike lay sleeping right now. "You know I was seriously heading here to turn Spike to dust a short while ago, but… I can't blame him for his actions when he was soulless. I've done so much worse, Buffy. Even to you." Angel paused. "Is he okay, do you think? Now he has a soul and all? Honestly?"

"I don't know," Buffy shrugged. "I guess so." Angel waited for her to continue. "You're the one who should know. You guys work together a lot, right? You see each all the time. I've hardly spoken to Spike over the last couple of years. Not really. This weekend has been the longest stretch of time I've spent with him since he's been back." She shrugged again. "I don't know."

Angel looked disappointed at her unhelpful answer, so Buffy tried again. "Angel, look, I don't know anything, not really, what a soul is, what heaven is, it even exists. Maybe what I thought I remembered when I came back was just an illusion but… some of what Spike said earlier? About the violence and the harshness of reality. It felt somehow… familiar to me. Angel, if his experience has anything at all in common with mine, I think he's doing okay. I mean he's not closing off his emotions, ignoring his friends, or escaping into a destructive relationship, right?" Buffy managed to joke about the darkest period of her life. "I think he'll get through."

Angel gave a grateful smile.

"You know what," Buffy continued. "The last ten years or so of all of our lives have been pretty full on." That was putting it mildly. "Maybe it's time we all gave ourselves some breathing space." Buffy stopped, realising her phrasing was not the best, considering she was talking to a vampire. "Or… take things slow, you know. That's what the gang and I have been doing. Dawn's focusing on a normal college life. Willow's concentrating on the academic side of magic, rather than the practical. Xander's working and getting his life together, and I'm still figuring out how to be a normal girl."

"Yeah," Angel considered. "I hadn't thought of it that way. Maybe you're right. Maybe Spike and I need to relax a bit. Maybe we deserve a quiet decade or two."

"Wow, when you vampires think long term, you really think long term."

Angel was quiet for a bit. "Am I a terrible friend to Spike?" he asked suddenly. "Willow and Xander keep ribbing me about it. Dawn too. I've been trying but… do I treat him badly?"

"You're a little intense, if the last few days are anything to go by, but… Put it this way, as long as you're not taking advantage of his loyalty, beating him up on a regular basis, refusing to acknowledge his feelings, and using him for sex - you're treating him better than I did, right?" Buffy shrugged with a wry grin.

Angel said nothing.

Buffy felt her eyes droop. It had been a long day and an even longer night. "I better head home," she said reluctantly "I seriously need to get some sleep if I'm gonna be semi-functional tomorrow. What about you?" It was still a few hours before sunrise.

"I can't sleep. Not yet. I've got a lot to think about."

"Serious brooding time?" she smiled understandingly.

Angel nodded. "But I think I can spare the time to walk you home." They turned their eyes from that curtained bedroom window and hand in hand walked back the way they had come.

…

Behind those curtains, Spike lay on Xander's spare bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, from where he had not moved since he'd left the others, several hours before. The confusion of swirling thoughts and feelings that had flooded his mind began to settle as the demon venom, that had been slowly creeping from insidious punctures in his pale skin, through his yielding flesh, seeped now into his throat, his neck, grabbed hold of spinal nerves and swept through neural pathways, freezing any semblance of conscious thought or recognition. Spike's heavy lids closed silently over his unseeing eyes.


	11. Rise and Shine

After walking Buffy home, Angel stayed out until sunrise, walking the empty streets, playing over in his mind everything Buffy had told him and what it all meant. The faint daylight was beginning to irritate his skin by the time he finally stepped up to Buffy's front door again. He unlocked the door and made to walk inside only to be pushed back by that familiar shove of un-invitation. He sighed. Dawn must have panicked and had Willow uninvited him. So much for a warm welcome. But he could hardly blame them.

Angel was reluctant to wake anyone at this hour after their late night, but the sun was crawling ever higher above the horizon. He didn't have much choice. He rang the doorbell.

Dawn appeared. "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry, Angel!" she apologised at once. "It was just a precaution. You understand, right? No hard feelings?"

"As long as you let me in," Angel assured her inching out of the creeping light.

"Oh, please come in!" Dawn rectified. Buffy had told them all it was fine when she's come home to find Willow and Dawn anxiously waiting up for her.

As Angel followed her inside he noticed she was dressed in jeans, not bed clothes. "You were awake?" he asked.

"I wasn't exactly in a 'sweet dreams' frame of mind after what I let slip," she told him. "I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have said anything, at least not in front of you. Me and my big mouth, I just…"

"No," Angel stopped her mid-apology. "I'm glad you did."

"So, it's okay? Everything's good with Buffy?"

Angel nodded.

"And Spike's still alive?"

"As far as I know. If he isn't, it's not my doing," Angel joked.

Dawn smiled. "I'm so glad. You want coffee?"

"I'd love coffee."

Angel sat at the kitchen counter while Dawn busied herself.

"Buffy's asleep?"

"Yeah. Willow and Buffy both. They won't be up for a while." Dawn told him. "Buffy seemed happy when she got in earlier." Dawn commented, slyly. "Will and I were so relieved. I'm so pleased you and Buffy sorted things out."

"Thanks, Dawn."

"I hope… you and Spike can sort things out too. You know, once you get a chance to talk everything through and all. That'd make me happy too. Seeing you guys… you know… getting along."

"You really…" Angel had been noticing Dawn and Spike's friendship this weekend. "Get along with him."

"Oh, Spike and I go way back," Dawn said casually, sitting down across from Angel and handing him his coffee. "I mean, not way back like you two, of course, but… we used to hang out a lot. After he got the chip. But before things got really screwy. So to speak."

"You were there," Angel said almost to himself, feeling bad that he had not been there to help Buffy in times she may have needed him. He thought about what Dawn had said. "So… you were friends with him when he was soulless."

"He didn't have a soul, but he had a chip." Dawn shrugged. "He couldn't hurt anyone. He didn't know what to do with himself. Everyone ignored him. He didn't seem evil to me, just… lost. I could relate."

"You were fourteen, Dawn," Angel pointed out.

"Exactly," Dawn agreed. "It's like… we grew up together." she tried to explain. "Spike was still just coming to terms with the whole chip deal, and I was dealing with the fact that I'd been created from some mystical ball of energy. Spike kept hanging around, helping out, and Buffy started trusting him to babysit me, but to be honest, sometimes I felt like I was babysitting him." She giggled, remembering. "He used to make me listen to these awful horror stories - you know, like, _true_ ones - and I'd," she smiled, "I'd force him to have these drawn-out heart to hearts. It was so…" Dawn searched for the right word, "adolescent."

Angel frowned. All this new information and perspective was starting to overwhelm him. He rubbed his brow.

"You look really tired Angel," Dawn observed. "Maybe coffee's not the best idea. Do you want to take a nap? I don't think the others are going to be up for hours, so you may as well. Hey," she suggested brightly, "you can sleep in my room, since I'm up now. Better than that corner Buffy put you in near the laundry, right?"

"Are you sure that would be okay? With Buffy?" Angel wasn't sure.

"Of course. Buffy's not the boss, Angel. Of any of us."

Angel gave in and had a nap in Dawn's room. When he woke up, it was later than he expected. Willow appeared briefly, looking hungover. She told him Buffy and Dawn had gone out shopping, before taking an aspirin and shutting her bedroom door again. Angel spent a restless afternoon by himself, cooped up in the house.

It was evening when Xander dropped round after work. "Hey," he greeted Angel, "I hear Buffy's organising something special as a farewell for you and Spike. Where is she?"

Willow emerged and asked why Xander hadn't brought Spike with him. "I stopped in at my apartment, but I'm pretty sure it was empty," Xander explained.

"Only _pretty_ sure? Did you check his room?" Angel asked.

"No," Xander admitted. "But I called out when I was leaving. I figured he was already with you guys."

"I guess he could be still asleep," Angel mused. He had an odd feeling about it. "He's a pretty heavy sleeper."

"Or maybe he's out with Buffy?" Xander suggested.

Angel scoffed. "Out shopping? During daylight hours?"

"With those two, you never know," Xander shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

"So I've heard," Angel replied quietly.

"Angel," Xander reminded, "Spike went to bed at like 2am. He wouldn't have been asleep for 17 hours!"

"Maybe he didn't fall asleep right away. You know he hasn't been sleeping that well. He's actually been kind of depressed lately, I think," Angel admitted, trying not to appear overly concerned. "Not exactly springing out of bed of an evening." He had a bad feeling that it was more than this though. "But we're supposed to be meeting Buffy. He wouldn't want to disappoint her."

"You wanna go back and check my apartment?" Xander asked, surprised by how worried Angel seemed.

"Yeah," Angel admitted. "Is it okay if I borrow your keys?"

"You know what, why don't I come too?" Xander grabbed his coat.

"That's not really necessary." Angel would have much preferred to go alone.

"Actually it is," Xander confessed. "Willow called me in the early hours of the morning. Apparently Dawn had woken her up and told her what she'd let slip and how you'd reacted. She coached me through the spell to un-invite you from my place. Willow was really freaked."

"I wasn't freaked," Willow denied with an embarrassed laugh. "I just wanted Dawn to feel safe."

"Anyway, you're gonna need me to let you in," Xander pointed out.

"Could I get a lift too?" Willow asked in a small voice. "Just drop me off outside. I need to pick up my car. It's on the street 'round the corner. I really need to check my messages and I left my phone in my car." She paused. "Please forgive me, Angel. It's just you've been so… short-tempered this weekend and I just…"

"Fine," Angel relented. "It's fine. Let's just go find Spike."


	12. About Time

After dropping Willow off, Xander and Angel went straight up to Xander's apartment. Xander invited Angel in and he strode quickly to the spare room and knocked on the door. "Spike? Are you in there?" he called loudly. No answer.

"See? Just like I told you. He's not here!" Xander spread his hands.

Angel paused only a moment before he turned the door handle and swung the door wide. "Oh, he's here."

Spike was lying on the bed, flat on his back, on top of the covers, still fully dressed. He looked as pale as death and his limp hands were crossed over his unmoving chest. His eyes were shut. "God! Looks like he'd be more at home laid out in a coffin. Or on a bench in the morgue," Xander joked, walking into the room. "Why'd I bother even making up the bed? Do you sleep this way Angel? Is this how regular vampires sleep?"

"Only the idiots," Angel muttered. He went to Spike and shook his shoulders. "Spike? Spike wake up!"

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" Xander realised, a little creeped out, when Spike did not so much as stir. "What do we do? Call Buffy!"

"No, wait. I think I know what this is," Angel tried not to panic. "Should've realised," he was kicking himself. Of _course_ there was venom in that bite! Since those demons ate dead flesh, it only made sense they'd have _deadly_ venom. "Xander where's that book?" he snapped. "That demonology book you had last night? With all those facts about the slime demons. Does it say anything about venom or toxins?"

Xander ran to get the book and came back and stood in the middle of the room, flicking through the pages. "No, No. Oh wait, yes! It's all back here in the appendix section. It says," he read aloud. "A paralysing and anaesthetising neurotoxic is contained in a potent venom secreted through needle-like teeth… It says it's… deadly to humans." Xander looked up. "Oh, no! Is Spike dead?"

"Of course he's _dead_ , Xander," Angel was agitated. "He's a vampire for God's sake. But he's not _dust_ , is he? So, this can't actually kill him. But we gotta wake him up." Hopefully that was still possible. Angel had heard of this type of thing happening to vampires. If too much of the toxin reached the brain the effect could be permanent. A bit like that parasite Eve put on him that time that had made him hallucinate all kinds of weirdness. It was Spike who had been there to save him, he recalled.

"How?" Xander asked. "How do we wake him up?"

Angel grabbed Spike and shook him harder this time. "Wake up Spike! You can do it. Open your eyes. Hey, Spikey! Come on!" No effect. Spike's body felt listless in Angel's grasp, his head lolled, his eyes remained closed, his lashes did not lift from ashen cheeks. Frustrated, Angel grabbed Spike and shoved him hard against the bedhead, making Xander jump, and snarled, "William!"

Finally Spike stirred, and with tremendous effort, half opened heavy eyes. "Angelus? That you?" He stared blankly. "What happened to your hair?" His voice was weirdly monotonous.

"What?" Angel's hand flew to his head in a panic, then relaxed when he realised that Spike had called him Angelus. His hair was fine. Spike on the other hand…

Spike's gaze lurched about the room. "Where's Darla? Where's Dru?"

Despite the out-of-context words, Angel felt a rush of relief that Spike was able to speak at all. That had to be a good sign, right? "Spike, you're just a little…"

"I'm confused," Spike drawled hazily, his eyes falling on Xander, who stood with feet rooted to the floor.

"Dru and Darla, they're not here, Spike. Just me," Angel explained carefully. "And him."

"You're the Slayer's boy, right?" Spike wavered vaguely, trying to focus his eyes on Xander.

"Spike, it's me _Xander_ ," Xander told him, shocked by Spike's lack of recognition. "Darla's _dead_ , don't you remember? And Dru _left_ you."

"No," A devastated look came into Spike's eyes, as he tried hard to comprehend.

"It's okay, Spike. It's okay," Angel tried to reassure him. When Spike's head sagged against Angel's shoulder he shook him urgently, afraid he was on the verge of blacking out again.

With great effort Spike managed to half-lift his head. "Bloody oath, we must be in that hellhole, Sunnydale," he swore.

"Sunnydale's gone. The hell mouth's destroyed," Xander persisted in trying to fill him in, oblivious to the pointed shake of Angel's head.

"What? Not the hell mouth." Spike's voice held a haunted note of despair. "Who'd do a bloody thing like that?"

"You did."

Spike stared at Xander then swivelled his eyes towards Angel. "You're gonna test out that new chainsaw of yours on him, right Angelus?"

"Maybe later," Angel said quietly, wishing Xander could just shut up.

"Hey!" Xander objected, freaking out.

"Just humour him, okay, Xander!" Angel hissed. "I don't think he can handle any more revelations right now."

"What, you don't think he needs to be reminded that he fell in love with Buffy and has a _soul_ now?"

Spike blacked out, falling heavily against Angel. "Great help, Xander!" Angel reproached him, hefting Spike's unconscious body back onto the bed.

"Okay, I'm calling Buffy," Xander took out his phone but Angel jumped up and stopped him. "I don't think that's such a great idea. Let me handle this."

"How?"

Angel's mind raced. "He's gonna need blood," he realised. They rushed to the kitchen and Angel pulled open the fridge door, his eyes searching.

"I think you drank it all last night," Xander told him. Angel slammed the fridge harder than necessary.

"Guess there's always," Xander gulped, wondering why on earth he was suggesting it, "the old fashioned way."

Angel turned in surprise. Was Xander actually offering his own blood? "I guess… It could help… No, no, no," Angel declined. "Too risky. Besides, I've got plenty of blood at Buffy's. We just gotta get him there. Anyway, he's gotta be _conscious_ to feed, right? First things first." Angel rushed from the kitchen.

"Holy crap, what in the…" Xander swore at the crashing sounds that assaulted his ears as he followed Angel back to the bedroom. Angel had thrown Spike across the room and was violently shaking the undead life out of the other vampire against the far wall.

"Finally," Angel muttered anxiously when Spike groggily came to, for the second time. "I know you've always been a heavy sleeper, Spike, but this is ridiculous." Angel's forced laughter died on his lips.

"M'legs feel like lead," Spike drawled. He was still not himself if his listless voice was anything to go by. He leaned his head against the wall staring vacantly at his unmoving limbs spread out on the floor in front of him in torn, faded jeans and scuffed boots.

Angel leaned over him. "But you _can_ feel them right?" What had Xander said the venom was? A powerful neural paralytic? Hopefully this meant it was wearing off.

"Yeah, guess that's an improvement. Guess it's possible Buffy hasn't crippled me for good."

"Course not," Angel told him, a pained look on his face, realising the time period Spike thought he was in, back in Sunnydale shortly after Angelus had joined Spike and Dru in the factory. But Spike's words also brought to mind everything Buffy had told him last night about how she had treated him during their doomed relationship.

"Did Dru really leave me?" Spike mumbled tragically, seeming to remember their previous conversation at least. "What'll I do without her? Who's gonna take care of me?"

"Forget Dru, Spike," Angel told him earnestly. The whole situation was so ridiculous it would have been funny if Angel wasn't genuinely concerned. He had to get Spike to come to his senses as soon as possible, and he was beginning to realise there was only one sure way he knew how to do that. "She never really cared for you anyway, Spike. Not properly."

"But, I got nothin' else." Spike slipped sideways and Angel caught him.

"Hey, I've got you, alright," he hushed.

"Angelus, you're… helping me?"

"Yeah. Let's get you up." He draped Spike's slack arms around his shoulders and heaved him unsteadily to his feet. "Let's take a walk," he tried to sound upbeat.

"Woah! Woah! What are you _doing_?" Xander panicked, incredulous. "A walk? Sure that's a good idea? Angel, he can't _walk_!" Xander gesticulated. "He's barely conscious for God's sake, and _clearly_ delirious. Maybe we should leave him to sleep it off some more."

" _He can't sleep it off, Xander_!" Angel almost bit Xander's head off. "If we let him sleep for much longer, he'll be sleeping forever! He's a vampire, you idiot! He's got no proper circulation," he explained. "We gotta get him _moving_!"

"Okay, okay, you know best," Xander backed down.

"And I…" Angel paused. It was probably best that he warn Xander. "I might have to rough him up a bit too," he admitted, dropping his voice. "Once we get outside." He didn't want to damage Xander's apartment too much. "Bring out the demon in him. That's what'll fix this."

" _Violence_ is the answer? Boy, who'd have thought _you_ of all people would jump to that conclusion?" Xander said dryly. "Now I understand what Spike was talking about last night. About the whole violence overload? Have you thought that _you_ might be the cause of that? You _really_ think this is what he needs right now, Angel? I mean, how's he gonna feel about it later? You know, once his brain comes back online?"

"Hey, just 'cause I can't walk no more don't mean I'm not alright in the head, Harris. I'm not delirious," Spike said, perking up just enough to manage some snark. "And I'll take anything Angel throws at me."

"See? He's gonna be fine. He's not delirious," Angel agreed as cheerily as he could manage. "He's just… taking a walk down memory lane." Angel realised Xander had a point but he couldn't let that stop him from doing what needed to be done right now. "Come on buddy," Angel mussed Spike's already dishevelled head of hair, "Let's go say our goodbyes to Buffy."

"Really?" Spike blinked.

"Yeah," Angel told him. "Of course."

Suddenly Spike sniggered disconcertingly "Bout bloody time, Angel! Thought you'd _never_ get 'round to it. We can do this Slayer _together_ Angel, you and me. What do you say?"

"Whatever you say, Spike," Angel told him gently, letting a smile creep onto his lips. Spike stopped abruptly, looking confused to his very depths as Angel made ready to guide him out.

"Wait. Not goin' anywhere without my coat." Spike demanded stubbornly, like a toddler who needed a blanky for comfort, some familiar object to latch onto. He leaned over and made a clumsy grab for the ratty leather duster hanging at the foot of the bed. He pulled it over the now crumpled shirt Angel had lent him the night before, not seeming to notice that one coat sleeve was literally in shreds, and the whole thing hung over him like a decaying, moth-eaten garment dug out of a centuries old grave. He straightened up, oblivious to his farcical appearance, his glittery manicure, courtesy of Dawn, being the only remotely presentable thing about him. "Gotta look the part," he attempted a snarl, "when we take the _Slayer_ down." His feeble attempt at ferocity failed miserably, as he seemed to sense something was very wrong but was at a loss to explain it. "Right?" He toppled backwards again and Angel's quick reflexes just managed to catch him before he hit the floor.

"You're right, Angel," Xander decided. "Buffy doesn't need to see this freak show."


	13. Trust Issues

Willow was sitting in her car checking her phone messages when she heard a commotion in the street. She was shocked when she looked up through her windscreen, to see Angel attacking Spike just outside Xander's apartment.

"Hey! Angel, what are you doing? Stop that!" She jumped out of her car as quickly as she could and ran over, casting the first spell that came to her mind, resulting in Angel becoming glued to the spot, unable to move.

"Will! It's okay. I think." Xander ran over to Willow and quickly tried to explain. Still a little confused, Willow released Angel. In that instant Spike's face finally morphed into its demon form. He roared and rushed at Angel, slamming him into the brick wall and punching him repeatedly.

"Spike, stop!" Angel tried to shout amidst the flurry of punches. "Stop it! It was the venom from that slime demon! It knocked you out. I just wanted to bring you round. Just trying to bring you to your senses, Spike!"

Spike held back his next punch, although his other hand still held Angel firmly against the wall. "That slime demon that bit me?" He asked with sudden lucidity. "You mean that thing poisoned me? With some kind of venom? Huh. Felt like a tonne of bricks was weighing me down. Until just now. Probably why I came over kinda queasy last night too. Thought it was Red's waffles."

"I only hit you to make you vamp out," Angel explained, pleadingly. "To bring the demon in you to the surface. That's all." Angel eyed Spike's still raised fist warily. "Just to get your blood flowing."

"Makes sense," Spike admitted. "Perfectly reasonable explanation, I s'pose." He let Angel go, but still stood at the ready.

"Yeah," Angel collapsed heavily to his knees, wiping blood from his mouth. "Yeah, reasonable, that's me. Always… just looking out for you, Spike. You know that, right? No hard feelings?"

"Course not. All is forgiven," Spike told him cautiously.

"Really?" Angel looked up.

"Sure. Just let me get in one more…" Spike clocked Angel again.

The fight seemed to be over, so Willow and Xander waited a few moments then approached the two vampires nervously.

"Hey, Red, Xander," Spike turned his head to greet them. He changed his face back to normal and suddenly appeared a lot less threatening. "Sorry you had to see that," he apologised scratching his head, then became distracted at how messed his hair seemed to be and ran his hands through it trying to fix it.

"You apologise to them? What about me?" Angel asked pitifully, wincing as he pulled himself up.

"No one likes to wake up to Angelus in the morning," Spike pointed out with an arched eyebrow, watching the other vampire struggle to his feet. "Or whatever bloody time of day it is," he looked around, the darkening street.

"Fair enough." Angel conceded.

"I really must've been out cold," Spike said realising some time had passed. What day is it? Is it still Saturday?"

"It's Sunday evening," Xander informed him. "You were out for 17 hours, Spike. You sure you're okay now?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm all clued up now," Spike nodded a little distractedly. "I've got the where, the when, and the who all sussed out." He grimaced. "My insides still feel a bit wonky, though," Spike admitted pressing his hands to his body.

"By your insides do you mean your physical insides," Angel asked, "or are we talking about your dumb feelings again?"

Spike turned to Angel and for a moment Willow and Xander tensed, thinking Angel might have pushed his luck too far with that comment, but Spike let it pass.

"All of it," Spike admitted.

"Well, your insides can't be in worse shape that your outsides. You look a sight."

Spike looked down at himself and shrugged. Then he studied Angel, who was still looking rather pained and had a smear of blood across his cheek. "Don't look quite on top of things yourself, Angel."

"We should get back to Buffy's." Willow suggested. "Buffy and Dawn are probably back and wondering where we all are."

"Righto then, time to head off," Spike said. He watching Angel limp to the driver's side of their car. "Don't suppose you'll let me drive?" he called out after him.

"No way." Angel shook his head. "Or operate heavy machinery. Just a precaution, Spike."

"For how long?"

"How about never?"

"Well, as long as I'm in charge or the music."

Willow turned to Xander. "Xander, you want to come in my car instead of with the crazy vampires?" she suggested.

"Oh God, please," Xander said gratefully.

…

Angel and Spike walked into Buffy's living room and Dawn poked her head round the corner. "Oh, it's you guys! Finally. Buffy's upstairs getting… it… ready. She'll be down soon." She stopped when she noticed their appearance. "What happened? Spike? Angel? You two haven't been fighting, have you?" she reprimanded. "Are you okay?"

"It's fine," Angel assured her. "I'm fine. And Spike… will be. He needs some blood." Angel glanced at the vampire beside him. Spike had seemed a little vague again, since they'd got out of the car.

"Right. You guys sit down. I'll get it. And then you can tell me what happened," Dawn played the host. "Okay, one serve of blood coming up!"

Gratefully, Angel took a seat on the sofa. To be honest, he really needed to sit down for a bit after the lashing Spike had given him. He nodded for Spike to do the same and Spike clumsily sat down so close to Angel, he was almost on top of him, their shoulders bumping together. "Hey, you're not blacking out again are you? Angel asked him.

"Course not," Spike replied, but he looked uncertain.

"Dawn, you need any help?" Angel called out, when she seemed to be taking longer than expected.

"Do I have to get the temperature correct? 98 degrees right? I can't find a thermometer," she called back from the kitchen.

"Just fill up a mug and zap it in the microwave for 45 seconds." Angel told her.

Dawn emerged with a mug and held it out to Spike. He stared at it blankly. "What's that, luv?"

"It's blood. For you," she stammered.

"Why's it in a mug?" Spike seemed confused again and automatically turned to Angel. "Angel?"

Before Angel had time to reply, Willow and Xander entered the room and their attention was diverted.

"So, Buffy's upstairs?" Xander asked. "Wrapping up the… er… the thing, I guess? Shouldn't take long." He looked at the two vampires. "Spike maybe you should take off that old coat," he suggested. "Give it here. I'll help you out. I'll trash it."

"Don't need your help," Spike leaned away suspiciously. "Angel?" he queried again.

"Spike, you gotta drink something," Angel encouraged. He had taken the mug from Dawn and now offered it to Spike.

Spike looked blankly at the mug and turned to Dawn. "Well, I am a bit peckish. Maybe I could eat _her_?" he suggested to Angel. "She smells nice."

"I do?" Dawn squeaked, flattered but alarmed.

Spike's eyes darted over her. "Wouldn't have to… kill her… exactly… or hurt her _much_ ….just…" His mind was getting hazy again but he still knew somehow that he didn't want to harm Dawn. He shook his head trying to clear it.

"Sorry, Dawn," Angel apologised. "I guess he's still not quite himself. Spike," Angel pulled Spike's head away from Dawn back towards the mug. "Just drink the pig's blood."

Spike pulled a face. "Ewwh."

Angel sighed. "Look, I'm sorry we're all out of the good otter blood to lace it with, and I didn't even think to bring any of that burba weed stuff you like." Spike had never really come round to the flavour of pig's blood and was always trying to spice it up to make it more palatable. "Hey, hey, look at me," Angel ordered, when Spike's gaze began to wander again.

Dawn looked dismayed. "What's wrong with Spike?" she asked, becoming really worried and looking about to cry.

Xander took her aside and explained what was going on, just as he had explained to Willow in the car before they came in.

"It's only temporary, Dawn," Xander assured. "Angel says he'll be fine. The effect of the venom is wearing off pretty quick, considering he was dead to the world a half hour ago. I'd be more worried about any lasting damage Angel might inflict on him."

"Spike, please, don't black out again," Angel was saying, his voice becoming more forceful. "You gotta show your demon face again, but I don't wanna hit you anymore. Come on!" Angel encouraged.

Spike snarled at him, trying to oblige, but his face didn't change.

Angel kneeled and grabbed Spike by the shoulders but didn't hit him like Xander expected. Instead he pulled his face close up to Spike's as he morphed into his own demon face, his yellow stare fixed on the other vampire's still blue eyes. "Show me what a badass you can be, show me your tough guy face, Spike! Said I didn't want to hit you, but that doesn't mean I won't! I'll slam that ugly mug of yours…" Finally, with an animal-like growl, Spike's face contorted and his eyes gleamed gold. "Atta boy," Angel patted his shoulder and shoved the mug in his face. "Now drink."

Obligingly, Spike gripped the mug and took a swig.

"I don't get it. He's confused, and out of all of us, who does he turn to? Who does he trust? Angel. That's messed up." Xander observed.

"I think it's sweet," Dawn smiled. "They're like brothers. They love each other underneath all that macho rivalry." She gushed.

They watched Spike drain the mug and hand it back to Angel. "Hold that face," Angel ordered. "I'll get you a refill." He moved to get up.

"No," Spike stopped him quickly, then paused. "I mean, don't go," he added quietly.

Angel sat back down and Dawn offered to take the mug to the kitchen instead.

"Seriously?" Xander kept on. "After all the untold years of shit that you've put him through? You guys hate each other. How can he trust you? I don't get it. You know how you're always calling him a moron, Angel? I think now I finally believe it. It's the only explanation."

Angel glanced broodily at Xander but made no offer on his thoughts.

After a pause, Spike himself, still in vamp face, weighed in. "Angel's never tried to kill me, Xander. Can't say the same for the rest of you."

"Well of course we all have. You used to be evil, remember. But surely Angel's tried to kill you a gazillion times more than us. You must not be remembering properly." Xander found it hard to believe. "I mean, what about all the times you've tried to kill _him_?"

"Even so," Spike claimed. "He never has. Not when we were both evil, and not since. Not on that submarine, and he had a soul then. Not even that time I came back to Sunnydale after Dru left. When I had you and Willow locked up in the factory? Stood between me and Buffy to stop her staking me, he did. Saved me evil skin. He had a soul and everything too. And I didn't. Still, he let me go."

Angel considered Spike's claim. "No. I did try to kill you once," he recalled thoughtfully.

"When?" Spike turned to him.

"When you asked me to," Angel reminded him quietly. "Remember when you were a ghost and you asked me to smash that amulet?" Angel pondered. "I didn't want to, though."

"See?" Spike told them. "Reliable. Trustworthy."

"You sure you want to trust him with your life, Spike? You absolutely _sure_ Angel doesn't want to kill you? You can't think of a _single_ reason why he'd want you dead?" Xander countered dangerously. "Cause _I_ can."

Angel's face darkened. "Xander…"

Spike scoffed. "You don't have the guts to…"

"Oh, I don't need to tell your dirty little secret, Spike. Angel already knows."

Spike froze, but Xander guessed the question on his lips.

"Since when? Since last night. And this time it was Buffy standing between you and the pointy end of a stake. Yeah. She told him everything, Spike. No more secrets," he spat.

"I don't believe you." Spike defied.

"Why do you think I was with Angel earlier? When we woke you up? Cause I had to invite him into my apartment, that's why. Willow called at 3am to coach me through the un-invitation spell over the phone. Luckily Buffy talked Angel down before he got there. Isn't that right, Angel?"

Angel gave a slight but definite nod.

Like a feral animal, cornered with no escape, Spike suddenly leapt over the sofa and crouched, facing Angel, ready to defend himself.

"Spike…" Angel reached out to explain, but in one chaotic moment, Spike sprung forward, smashing a small side table, and before anyone could react, had Angel by the throat against the sofa, a split piece of wood held at his chest. "Nobody move," he snarled threateningly. "Or Angel gets it."

Dawn froze in her tracks on her way back from the kitchen. Willow gaped, too shocked to do a spell. "I'll get Buffy," Xander said.

"No, just do what he says!" Angel insisted urgently. Then he hissed at Spike. "You really gonna use that, Spike? Is this what you want to do? You're going to kill me?" he asked Spike.

"Don't you think I won't. I'll kill _you_ , before you kill _me_ ," Spike swore.

"You really think that's necessary?" Angel asked as calmly as he could.

"I'm not an idiot. No way you'll let me live, after what I done," Spike said darkly.

"Spike, you didn't even do it. Buffy said she stopped you."

"I _would_ have."

"You didn't have a soul, Spike. I thought you didn't blame yourself for any of your soulless actions."

"But _you_ do."

"Yeah, I do," Angel admitted. "Same as I blame myself for everything I've ever done. You know I've done worse, Spike. A lot worse. Even to Buffy. Or I would have. Planned to… but Buffy stopped me. Same as she stopped you. Drove a sword through my chest. Sent me to hell. Where I deserve to be."

"So I deserve that too?"

Angel smirked. "You went and had your heavenly soul returned. Maybe that's justice enough. For now."

"Didn't do it to _punish_ myself," Spike scoffed, relaxing his grip a little in indignation. "I did it to fix things. Make it right. Can't take back what happened but… Won't happen ever again. Got my soul now. Problem solved."

"Problem solved?" Angel raised a sceptical brow. Getting his own soul back had been when all Angel's problems started. "You get your soul returned and consider that _problem solved_?"

"Yeah," Spike sniffed, offended by Angel's dismissive tone. "Done deal. No need to harp on about it."

Angel took his chance and grabbed the stake from Spike's hand, throwing it to the ground. As Spike tried to reach for it Angel knocked him to the ground. "Harp on about it? You know why I wanted to kill you last night, Spike? 'Cause I had it all backwards, that's why! I didn't know about all that stuff between you and Buffy. I didn't know it all happened when you were _soulless_!"

"You mean you thought I had a soul when I… You really think I could do that?" Spike glared up at Angel's menacing form. "What kind of a monster do you think I am?"

"Well, I don't know, Spike! How could I know?" Angel raged. "You kept all this from me! All this time! And then you have the nerve to claim you trust me?"

Spike sniggered. "Wouldn't go so far as to call it trust, Angel. Just know you've always had a soft spot for me, is all," he smirked, "ever since…."

Angel suddenly grabbed him and backed him up against the wall. He held his face so close, they would have been breathing the same air if they needed it. "You cowardly little shit, William!"

"Though, even with a soul, you got a funny way of showing it, you big ponce."

Angel dropped him. "Dammit Spike! Just… stop it! You always do this. So, yeah, you _know_ me. You know _everything_ about me. All my shit. And you use it how? To mock me! To twist my words, and to push my buttons! If you're never honest with me, Spike, how am I ever supposed to know _you_? Let alone trust you, or try to help you? Or… Arghh!" Angel knew he was making another scene in front of the Scoobies, but this time he didn't care. "You _should_ have _told_ me."

"Should've _told_ you?" Spike scoffed helplessly, still crouching on the floor. "Didn't want to think about it, much less talk about it. Especially to you. Still don't. Just wish I could just forget all about it. But I can't." He stopped, then passed his hand over his face and when he spoke again his voice was low and anguished. "Oh, God. The whole thing with Buffy… was crazy, Angel… _I_ was crazy… couldn't think straight, didn't hardly know what I was doing… tried to give her everything I thought she wanted but… I got it so wrong… went too far… I was so confused… I never wanted to hurt her, I _swear_ , but… I lost control…"

Angel looked at Spike. He was finally being honest. And Angel was shocked to see how torn up he was by actions that paled in comparison to Angelus's many evil deeds. "Jeez Spike, I can't justify hurting you over this." He fell into the nearest chair. "Besides, Buffy forgives you."

"What?…" Spike raised his head slightly.

"Yeah. She told me that too. She basically thinks when you died in the hell mouth you redeemed yourself. For everything."

"Really? That's generous. Very… gracious." Spike was astounded. "But what does she know?" he turned flippant. "I mean who does she think she is? Some high and mighty power to be handing out free passes? Doesn't matter what _she_ thinks." Spike paused then spoke in a more thoughtful tone to Angel. "When I went to Africa, made that deal with the demon, I thought it'd be so simple. I'll earn my soul back, come back to Sunnydale and win Buffy back. Be the good man she deserves. But once I had my soul I realised I could never… not after… Oh, fuck it. She's too bloody good for the likes of me, anyway." He brooded. "That's never gonna change."

"Yeah. She's too good for the both of us," Angel said despondently.

"You got that right," Xander told them, reminding them that he, Willow and Dawn where still standing over the other side of the living room, near the kitchen entrance. "Are we allowed to move yet, Spike? Is it safe?"

"So you… you really don't want to kill me?" Spike asked Angel.

"No," Angel admitted, pondering the fact that Spike had brought up. It was true. He had never tried to kill Spike in all their long lives. "Do you still want to kill me?"

"No," Spike relented. "Least not today." He glance over at the terrified Scoobies. "Show's over," he assured them. "Angel and I are good. See? Told you I could trust 'im. No matter what. We always kiss and make up."


	14. Wrapping Up

"Guys! I need help with this… thing!" Buffy called down from upstairs. "I'm trying to gift-wrap it, but… I think I used too many stakes – or not enough. I can't wrestle all these off-shoots at once!"

"Do you think you need _magic_ help, Buffy?" Willow called out in concern.

"I need _all_ the help, Will!" Buffy called back. "I'm trying but… Wah! I suck at this. I want it to be good, but I just can't get it right!"

"It's okay, we're coming Buffy!" Xander assured her as he and Willow heading upstairs to help her. Angel and Spike glanced at each other. What in the world was Buffy planning on giving them?

"Spike and Angel aren't here yet, are they?" Buffy sounded panicked. "I don't want to leave them waiting!"

"They're both here, Buffy!" Dawn called out. "But you don't have to rush. I think they could both use a little time to… sort themselves out." She paused. "I'll come up and help you too!" Dawn turned to Angel and Spike. "I'll leave this here," she placed the re-filled mug of blood on the coffee table. "And I'll hide this," she quickly picked up the timber fragments from the broken side table. "Please guys, just… make yourselves presentable, okay? You know Buffy doesn't like the two of you fighting. In fact she'd love to see you guys playing nice together even more than I would."

Angel frowned. "By playing nice you mean…"

"I mean she fantasises about it." Dawn grinned.

"Really? Exactly what do you mean by…" Spike began.

"Spike, Angel, just kiss and make up, like you promised, okay? And fix your hair."

…

"Guess Dawn's right. We better make ourselves presentable so Buffy doesn't suspect anything," Spike admitted.

"Yeah," Angel surveyed Spike's bedraggled appearance. "Or she'll think I've been slapping you around more than I have." Angel offered a hand and pulled Spike to his feet. "You look like you just crawled out of your grave."

Reluctantly Spike shrugged out of his ruined coat, and set it aside. "Guess they don't make 'em like they used to." He attempted to straighten the shirt Angel had lent him, trying to smooth out the wrinkles and re-folded the cuffs. "This doesn't fit me proper," he complained. "Bloody hell Angel, do I still look ridiculous?"

Angel glanced at him. "Your hair," he told him. "It's going every which way. You might want to fix that."

Spike sighed. "Yeah well, didn't exactly bring any…"

"Hair product?" Angel anticipated. "Here. Use mine." He reached into his pocket and brought out a tub of hair mousse."

Spike looked at it, reluctantly. "You know, Angel, we could just slip out now. Avoid the whole goodbye hoo-ha. Mysterious, like. Isn't that more your style?"

"Yeah, I really hate goodbyes," Angel sat down again and brooded while Spike fixed his hair. "You know Spike, there's another way to avoid goodbyes," he said quietly. This was the topic he'd been waiting for the right moment to bring up.

"And that is?"

"By not leaving. Are you sure you want to come back to LA just yet? Maybe you could talk to Buffy about staying here for a while. You're had an okay weekend, right?"

"It's been okay, s'pose. Apart from all the interrogations, that rude awakening, oh, and the fact you nearly came to stake me last night."

"So the bits that weren't great were pretty much my fault."

"Damn right. You're to blame for everything, as far as I'm concerned," Spike started on one of his annoying rants, possibly to avoid the topic more than anything else. "And I don't just mean this weekend, I mean _everything_. From me being a vampire, for my tragic love-life, for giving Buffy that amulet that torched me in the hell mouth, for being resurrected in LA, right down to how come you were in such a hurry to leave on Friday that I forgot my hair products and now I've had to use your nancy-boy goop. Can smell the darn stuff all over me now. _All_ your fault."

"Really?" Angel was confused. "My fault? Thought you said the other night that it was just my guilt talking."

Spike scoffed. "Just cos you're an ego-maniac with a massive guilt-complex, doesn't mean it's _not_ your fault, Angel. And just 'cause I'm not about to kill you just yet, doesn't mean I don't still hate for everything you've done to me."

Angel smiled a little. For some reason he found it oddly comforting to know Spike blamed him for everything.

"No need to beat yourself up about it though. You got me for that. All you gotta do is ask." Spike assured, sitting down next to Angel. Having done what he could to his hair he picked up the mug of blood and took a tentative sip.

"Make sure you drink all that," Angel told him as he watched Spike closely. "If you are coming back with me, I don't want to put up with any more memory lapses on the drive to LA." He suspected Spike hadn't been getting enough blood lately. It was something he should have been keeping a closer eye on.

"You're really worried about me, aren't you?" Spike said over his mug, serious suddenly.

Angel was silent.

"And I don't just mean about this venom thing. That's wearing off now. I'll be fine. Still, good thing you came to check on me when you did. I was in deep. Bloody rough going coming out of it. Lucky you weren't adverse to knocking me round good and proper."

Angel winced. He actually felt really bad about that. He was surprised Spike didn't have a splitting headache, the way he'd slammed him against that brick wall. It only reinforced what he feared about their relationship. "Look Spike," he tried again, "the truth is, I just don't know if it's the best thing for you to be around me."

Spike paused cautiously. "Don't say that, Angel."

"You should stay here. With Buffy and the others."

"What the bloody hell are you on about, Angel?"

"You get along with Buffy and with the Scoobies. And with Dawn. I know Xander's looking for a housemate and…"

"Seriously? Is that what this weekend's all been about? Angel, you're… You're breaking up with me?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Angel expected Spike to be joking but when he looked at him he seemed genuinely hurt.

"Leave me out in the soddin' cold, on my own? Thought you felt responsible for me. You avoiding your responsibilities now? Why don't you just bloody stake me!" Spike swore stroppily.

"Don't be dramatic. You wouldn't be out in the cold. Buffy and the others would make sure you were okay. I'm trying to do the right thing here, Spike. Let's be honest here, okay? You can't deny you've been doing pretty poorly lately. Every time I've come round your place is a mess and you're either still in bed or out in some bar somewhere."

"I do what I want," Spike huffed.

"You're not looking after yourself. You drink more alcohol than blood. Turn up to work late, or not at all."

"Didn't realise you were checking up on me," Spike frowned, sulkily.

"You've been so moody and sullen I can hardly get a word out of you…"

"You're one to talk."

"The only time I see a spark of life in you is when I take you out to kill some evil things and then half the time you go all out in the fight, to the point I wonder if I should hold you back."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Regardless of whether I want to, I just don't know if I can help you, Spike," Angel finished.

Spike looked up at Angel. "You sure you should be so keen to ditch me? Angel, you don't have a team at the moment. You don't even have a secretary. You got an empty hotel and a few random clients."

"What's your point?"

"Maybe I'm not the only one in need of help." Spike looked up at Angel. "You still got some blood on your face, by the way," he smirked.

Angel sighed and wiped his face. "Exactly. It's not like I've got my own life sorted right now, and with you on top of everything else, I don't know if I can handle it."

"Don't expect you to have all the answers, Angel… why do you always think you've got to be so bloody in control all the time?"

"I just… want to make sure that my actions are not going to cause more pain and suffering down the track…"

"Doesn't work like that though, does it? Life? There's no master plan to follow. No road map. Can't see what's coming 'til we're in the middle of it. Just gotta play each day as it comes."

Angel sighed. Spike was getting awfully philosophical on him all of a sudden.

Spike sensing Angel's discomfort, switched to a more casual tact. "We're not doin' so bad, Angel. Three years in LA together, you haven't lost your soulful convictions, and I haven't offed myself. Not bad, all things considered."

"Jeez, Spike!" Angel stared at him, incredulous at his ability to give such a black recap in such a cheery tone. It almost made him laugh. "You really are an idiot, know that?"

…

Spike and Angel were out on the porch when Buffy finally came downstairs. Spike had found a couple of stray cigarettes in one of the pockets of his ruined coat and Angel had surprisingly taken up his offer of a smoke, maybe because it gave them something to do other than talk to each other.

When Buffy came out onto the porch, Angel hurriedly dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out, as embarrassed as a teen caught smoking by a parent which Spike found amusing.

The Scoobies gathered around as Buffy held out something wrapped in gaudy shiny paper and ribbons. "Angel, Spike, I got something for you. I hope you like it," she said nervously, waiting expectantly.

After putting out his own cigarette, Spike took the offered gift and stared at it, his expression unreadable. "What is this?" he asked. Peeping out the top of the gaudy wrapping were yellow, pink and orange flowers.

"Oh, I get it. Bright coloured, happy flowers," Angel observed. "Zinnias right?" he guessed correctly.

Buffy nodded. "The guys and I wanted to get you both something. It's a pot plant. A gift for your office. I thought maybe Angel can learn about flowers, and Spike, well, I thought they might help cheer you up."

Spike felt overcome and didn't know what to say. He turned his back to her, looking peculiarly like he was closely studying Angel's sleeve. None of the others could see his face.

"Is he okay?" Willow asked, quizzical at his weird behaviour. "I thought the effect of the venom had worn off now."

"What venom?" Buffy asked.

"It has worn off," Angel assured them even though Spike appeared to be practically leaning against him. "Come on Spike, you big sap. Is that any way to respond when someone gives you a nice present? Be polite and say thank you to Buffy."

"Don't you like it?" Dawn asked in disappointment.

"No, no. Guys…" Angel tried to explain. "You don't understand. He likes it. He does. Right, Spike?"

Finally Spike turned around. "Thanks," he gulped. His cheeks were clearly wet with tears.

"Aww, I'm going to miss you guys." Buffy threw her arms around them both tightly, the pot plant getting a little bit squashed in the middle of the three-way hug. "Take care of each other for me, okay?"

"Don't worry, Buff. I won't let the big sod get too happy," Spike assured.

"And I'll keep an eye on Spike. If I think he's getting depressed at all, I'll give you a call, or we'll come for another visit."

"Whenever you want. Don't be strangers," Buffy told them.

"Group hug?" Dawn suggested and she, Willow, and even Xander joined in before Angel and Spike headed to their car for the road trip home.


End file.
